A History of Magic
by longdistance
Summary: He's to do what's expected of him. She's agreed to introduce him to eligible witches during the Ministry's five year celebration of the end of the war: A History of Magic. However, the course of true love never did run smooth. Fate has thrown a wrench in his mother's plans. Or did it?
1. Appealing to the Malfoys

**What's this? Another fic? I hadn't planned anything but this idea struck me over the weekend a couple of weeks ago and I just had to write it down. It's not going to be very long. Five-ish chapters but I hope you'll all enjoy it.**

 **As always, I own nothing and these characters all belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling. **Also, I was inspired by the current History of Magic Exhibit for the name.  
**

* * *

 **Appealing to the Malfoys**

Hermione Granger watched balefully as Draco Malfoy inspected the knick-knacks on the bookshelves in her office. When she'd originally requested a meeting with him, she'd not expected him to agree without argument. However, here he was being his annoying Slytherin self as she waited for him to comment on her request.

True, it had been five years since the war and at least three since he cornered her alone at a Ministry event to genuinely apologize to her for the things he'd said and done to her over the years, not to mention his participation as a Death Eater. The surprised shock when she'd quickly accepted his apology and held her hand out to shake on it was a sight to see.

These days their run-ins were usually limited to Ministry functions where he showed up as a public donor to events or when she passed him on his way to meetings about his Potion-making business. However, he still teased and smirked but the animosity was gone. She could honestly call them friendly acquaintances now.

That certainly didn't mean he didn't get on her nerves though. He was quite good at it after all.

"So let me make sure I've understood correctly, Granger," he grinned as he inspected a snow globe that Ron had gotten her last Christmas. A pathetic attempt at an apology for the way she'd found out he'd been flirting with other women before they broke up. It was a rather nice snow globe though. She'd only kept it because _technically_ he hadn't actually cheated. At least not by the time she caught him flirting, it was just clear that things needed to end between them.

"You want me to help you convince my parents to allow the Ministry's new Magical Museum to loan out many of my family artifacts to put on display?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. She knew he understood perfectly well but he seemed to gain extra pleasure from drawing these sorts of things out in an annoyingly slow pace.

"Yes, Malfoy, you would be correct. The British wizarding community has done quite well in our rehab after the war. This year marks the five year anniversary and the Ministry wants to exhibit all of the positive contributions that Britain has made to the magical world over the centuries. Our records show that your family has accumulated quite the collection of magical artwork and literature. When foreign dignitaries arrive for the festivities and celebratory ball, they'd like to be able to show off as much as possible."

"Bit of a pissing contest on who's contributed more than whom then," Draco smirked as he retook the seat across from her desk.

Hermione ignored his choice of language and nodded. "It certainly appears that way behind the scenes but I should think anyone who grew up as you did would understand the need to put up a positive front and strut like a belligerent peacock."

He snorted in amusement at her comparison and while he'd normally take offense, he knew coming from her it was like a backhanded compliment. Reluctant but honest.

"Alright then," he nodded, "Sounds like worthy cause. What will they get from it though? Reformed he might be, you realize my father will only agree if he sees some personal gain from this. I'd agree on their behalf but I was only given ownership of the family vaults, not material goods."

Hermione nodded, and reached to hand him a sheet of paper. "Yes, I thought of that when this was all suggested and proposed this to which Kingsley agreed. In exchange for a loan of their artifacts, your father will receive a six month reduction in his probation. As I understand it, he only has three years left. It's the best I could do."

Draco lifted a curious eyebrow and met her brown eyes. Proud but also genuine, there was something always very admirable about them no matter what he'd said in the past of them being the color of mud. They were more the color of a nice brandy, something deep he could lose himself in.

"And _you_ suggested this as compensation? I find I'm rather surprised, Granger. I was fairly certain you were in the camp that had wished him sentenced to Azkaban."

Hermione swallowed but her expression didn't waver and she clasped her hands on her desk as she met his gaze. "Your father made some poor decisions, Malfoy. There's no denying that—one of which included coercing his own son into the ranks of Death Eaters because he was too much of a coward to have protected his family better once he realized the magnitude of those poor decisions." She stopped and took a deep breath. "However, of all former Death Eaters that Kingsley interviewed during sentencing, he was the most remorseful and helpful in taking down others."

Draco couldn't help but be impressed by that rather scathing but accurate assessment. She'd long ago told him he was forgiven and he'd done what he could not to take that forgiveness for granted but he'd never realized how kind she truly was though he shouldn't have been shocked really—Gryffindor and all.

He nodded and folded the official offer before tucking it into his robes. "Alright, Granger. I'll help you. I'll discuss with my mother about having you over for dinner tomorrow if you want to pitch your proposal to them then." He noted the apprehensive twitch of her lower lip as she bit the corner and sighed. "That room was gutted first thing after the war, Granger. Mother's still not even decided what its use will be if anything but there's no chance of you going anywhere near it. She's redecorated the entire Manor as well so you wouldn't recognize anything."

The brave façade she always wore returned with a vengeance and she gave him a stern nod. "Fine. Please owl me the details of when I should arrive."

Draco nodded and quickly stood. He shook her outstretched hand, nearly snorting again at how silly it was that she maintained this strict business nature around him just because they were in a formal meeting when they'd known each other for years.

~o~O~o~

Lucius Malfoy was a rather proud man. This was a fact that would never change. He'd done what he thought was right in his youth, paid the price, and continued to repent for it. Lineage and history were important to him. He saw the need to maintain the richness that was his family's magic. Yet he no longer sought to eradicate those born with magic from non-magical families.

That, however, did not mean that he thought it lessened his own importance in the magical world. Hundreds of years of pure magical breeding had created wonderful magical stock. In some ways, he still felt superior.

It was that right there where he and his son could no longer agree.

Draco snorted as he poured himself a small tumbler of his father's finest imported brandy and took a seat across from him by the fire in his office that evening.

"We're inbred, father. Even you can't deny that. It's borderline humiliating in most societies. The fact that the magical world is only just realizing the oddity and backwards nature of it is only a side note."

Lucius rolled his eyes at his son and took a calming sip from his glass. "We have a rich history, son. Don't deny that."

"I don't," Draco grinned. It was the perfect opening. "Which is why I think it's appropriate to discuss this with you." He reached into his waistcoat and reached out to hand his father the Ministry letter.

Lucius lifted a curious brow and took the parchment after a moment. He unfolded the letter and allowed himself a moment to skim the contents. His eyebrows were nearly in his hairline by the time he came to the signature.

"This is your little friend's doing? The muggle-born one?"

Draco scowled as he stared into the depths of his glass. "I wouldn't call us friends by any means. Acquaintances now, sure. But yes, it was her doing. Kingsley Shacklebolt signed off on it."

"I'm rather surprised she'd agree to such a deal. Even if it is only six months early."

"What have I missed," Narcissa asked as she entered the room.

She'd insisted on overseeing the cleanup of dinner, wanting to make certain the leftovers were appropriately packed before one of the house elves took them off to donate.

It was a well-kept secret that oftentimes she donated food and other perishable goods they had in excess to the British Magical Orphans' Society in London. She'd nearly lost her own son. The idea that so many had lost their parents in the war had gnawed at her endlessly until Draco suggested this as a possible act of contrition to assuage her guilt.

"Here," Lucius handed the parchment to his wife to read.

When his mother looked up in mild shock, Draco sighed. "I agreed to help her by appealing to you myself in addition to having her over for dinner tomorrow, if you agree to hear her out, so that she may appeal to you in person herself."

"And you'd agree to this, Lucius?"

His father shrugged and took another sip of his brandy. "What's there to lose? It'd be in poor form not to take the offer when it benefits us so greatly. We may be reformed, Narcissa, but it does not mean we ignore advantageous opportunities that benefit the Malfoy name. Due to my probation, I've not been able to conduct any business of my own, leaving Draco with the burden of all of the family accounts in addition to his own business. It's humiliating," he sniffed haughtily.

She gave a terse nod and handed the parchment back to him. "Alright then. Draco, dear, will you owl Miss Granger and send her an invitation to dinner tomorrow evening for six o'clock sharp. Not a minute later."

"I don't believe Granger is the type for being late, mother so you needn't worry over her etiquette."

Narcissa bristled slightly at the slight rebuke but ultimately nodded. "Very well."

Draco did as his mother instructed and sent off an owl that evening. He received her response shortly after written in her formal, elegant script and signed with her official title— _Ministry of Magic Community Liaison_.

While pomp and circumstance normally called for any pureblood family to put on a show when having guests for dinner, to Draco it seemed like his mother was stressing more than usual. She was fluttering about with instructions to the elves when he left for breakfast that morning and had only ceased by the time he returned home that evening.

After his father's sentencing and probation, they'd not had much company outside of other pureblood families. Blaise came over fairly often as did the Greengrasses and Parkinsons. However, the reasons for the latter two generally differed greatly.

Hermione, for her part, had stressed a bit as well throughout the day. She'd put on the brave façade when he'd mentioned dinner at the Manor to discuss her proposal but it had been just that—a façade.

"You don't have to go, Hermione," Harry told her at lunch. "You can always assert your authority and request an official meeting here at the Ministry."

"Yeah, it's not like you owe the Malfoys any sort of kindness," Ron agreed.

Hermione frowned at the crumbs all over Ron's shirt, thankful that he was no longer her responsibility to worry over.

"It's not about a kindness, Ronald. It's about playing the game. If you want the Malfoys to play by your rules, you have to give the impression of playing by theirs."

Harry frowned but nodded. "War tactics then."

She shrugged and chewed a bite of her lunch. "If you want to look at it that way. I just see it as not allowing myself to be manipulated if I stay in control of the situation."

"You think they'll agree to it," Ron asked. "It's not like they're really the charitable sort."

Hermione bit her lip as she considered that. She wouldn't mention the anonymous, odd donations she'd spent months tracking to the Orphans' Society only to discover they were coming from Narcissa Malfoy. Or the galleons that Draco was donating anonymously to Hogwarts to support the education of children who came from families like Ron's where resources were tight. She'd been keeping both of those things to herself for quite some time after she found out, knowing the Malfoys were far too proud to have everyone know about their humility under the surface.

It was Lucius Malfoy from whom she didn't know what to expect. The man had kept dangerously quiet since his probation began.

"Lucius Malfoy is many things but a passer of opportunity surely isn't one," she finally answered. "I think he'll take a chance on anything that benefits him positively."

And she hoped dearly that she was right. According to her boss, their collection of magical artifacts and literature was large by any wizarding standards. Hundreds of years of arrogant collecting had yielded that and even she could begrudgingly admire their efforts.

For her visit, she was dressed in lovely black shift dress, sleeveless and demurely fitted. She wouldn't normally wear robes to such a dinner and refused to put on a fake show for the Malfoys by doing so now.

Consistent with Draco's directions, she entered her floo at five fifty nine and arrived as six sharp where she was greeted by Draco himself.

"Granger," he greeted and held out his arm to her.

Hermione fought the surprised lift of her eyebrows when she caught him giving her an interested once over before she took his arm and allowed him to lead.

"Nice…dress, Granger."

Hermione glanced up at him as they walked and found his eyes trained straight ahead. "Thanks. I hope my not wearing robes won't offend your mother."

He smirked and glanced over at her as they passed through a long corridor. "I doubt it. We've not had much company over the years as it is and the company we have had…well, I could not care less."

She didn't comment on that even though her curiosity was certainly sparked.

His mother and father were both standing on the opposite side of a small rectangular table as they entered what Hermione could only guess was a private dining room. Draco surprised her and pulled out her chair for her before taking his own seat as his parents followed.

Pleasantries were exchanged and it was Lucius who broke the ice as the first course of soup was served.

"I must say I was rather surprised by your suggested proposal, Miss Granger. However, we're quite intrigued by your offer. Care to elaborate what it is you're looking for from our collection?"

Hermione set her spoon down and wiped her mouth primly. She was vaguely aware of Draco's eyes tracking her every move but ignored him. She'd get to the bottom of that later.

"Yes, it's the Ministry's understanding that you have a collection of first edition novels by Viscount Marberly from the seventeenth century. If my research is accurate, their original bindings will be of dragon skin sewn with the hair of a unicorn."

Lucius nodded, a lone brow ticked high. "Very accurate indeed. Yes, we do have such a collection in our possession. He was one of few families with magical lineage who also held high repute with the muggle caste system of the time."

"Yes, and that's one reason we'd like those on loan if you agree. I was also informed that you have some paintings from Ignatius Warshaw who painted during the late nineteenth century. His use of magical herbs in his pigments was revolutionary for the time."

"Once more, you're correct, Miss Granger. Narcissa houses those particular paintings in her personal drawing room upstairs."

"Would you be willing to part with them for the exhibit, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Narcissa, who'd been relatively quiet until this point, eyed the witch carefully. A six month reduction to Lucius' probation was on the table in exchange for all of this but perhaps she could leverage more from the young woman now that they knew what items she desired.

"I would, but for an additional compensation."

Her statement surprised both her husband and son but neither let it show openly on their faces. Instead, they watched closely to see what else she would extract from the Ministry in exchange.

Hermione swallowed but refused to allow her nerves to show despite that she was shaking under the surface. She'd not come prepared with any other bargaining chips, feeling they wouldn't be needed considering what was already on the table.

"I'm listening," she said diplomatically.

"As I'm sure you understand, Miss Granger, the war has had ill effects on Draco as well despite being cleared of any wrongdoing. While he's been allowed to maintain the family vaults in his father's place and establish his own business, it's been a bit difficult to match him with eligible witches given the stigma still lingering on the Malfoy name. People are fake. They'll socialize with us if it benefits them but beyond that it's still difficult to maintain genuine connections."

Draco had gone rather pale at this point and was gritting his teeth. "Mother," he warned.

Narcissa ignored him however and pressed on. "There will be events for this exhibit with foreign dignitaries and their families invited, yes?"

To say Hermione was confused by this change of direction would be an understatement but she didn't see any particular malicious intent yet.

"Yes, that's correct," she answered cautiously.

"And you'll be required to attend, dear?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes then as she considered the shrewd woman across from her. Merlin, if the Malfoy men allowed her to conduct business of their own then the world would be in for a lot of trouble. She nodded cautiously.

"Good. My request is this: allow Draco to escort you to said events and introduce him to as many eligible, _acceptable_ women as possible. He speaks flawless French and his Italian is passable for conversation. He should have no trouble conversing with our close, foreign neighbors."

Hermione opened her mouth and shut it a few times before she glanced at Draco to gauge his expression. His jaw was clenched and his grey eyes appeared harder than usual. He looked about ready to argue but there was something holding him back.

"I…yes, I could do that. That's all you require to agree?"

Narcissa shared a look with her husband and he merely waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, that would be all."

"Alright, then I'll have a formal agreement written out and owled to you first thing in the morning. You understand that because your request is of a more personal nature, Mrs. Malfoy, that's it's not something I can add to a formal contract. However, I assure you that I'll uphold my end of the bargain."

Narcissa eyed the younger witch closely. "I feel I can trust your honesty, Miss Granger."

The rest of the dinner was filled with rather bland conversation about what other items could be expected at the exhibit. After agreeing to secure them an invitation to attend the ball, Hermione took her leave. Draco was stiff and uncomfortable as he walked her back to the visitor's floo.

"Granger," he spoke before she could step in. "I apologize about my mother. Perhaps you may not be comfortable with it but I'll be happy to attend and lie to her about introducing me to any foreign witches. I really don't expect you to do that."

Hermione observed his stiff posture and the way he was still clenching his jaw. "So all of the social change and yet you still can't escape your parents traditional expectations for an arranged marriage then?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. He could feel the impending headache already. He scowled as he told her the truth.

"Things may have changed for you and all other muggle-borns but I'm still expected to live up to the Malfoy name. That means maintaining the vaults, finding a wife, and producing an heir. My parents were quite lucky that they grew fond of each other but they don't know anything other than the old way of doing things."

"That's rather depressing, don't you think?"

He shrugged and shoved his hands deep in his trouser pockets. "Depressing, annoying, callous…what's the difference?"

Hermione nodded, not sure what to say really. She wasn't dating right now by choice. Ron had screwed up and his eyes had strayed elsewhere. She'd gone on dates but found the men to be tedious and boring. She even went on a couple dates with muggles but found herself uninterested and hiding her secret was rather bothersome. Maybe it would have been different if there'd been any spark or mutual attraction but without it there was no reason to invest her energy in hiding who she was until they could make it to that point.

"Don't stress over it, Malfoy. Foreign dignitaries arrive next Saturday and that's when the museum exhibit opens. Everything finishes two weeks later with the ball. I'll send you an owl with the details of the exhibit."

Draco nodded and watched as she waved goodbye before disappearing in the green flames. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and breathed in deeply through his nose. That was her scent then. The one that had been wafting the air around him all evening. A floral mixture he couldn't quite name.

He dismissed it however and retired for the evening. He had other matters to worry about now.


	2. The Things He Doesn't Say

**Thank you all for your kind reviews and follows. :) I've dropped some hints along the way. I hope to read your speculations in the reviews. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The Things He Doesn't Say**

Hermione had owled Draco after she'd received the signed contract back from his father. He was to meet her Saturday evening at her flat in Muggle London. She lived two blocks from the Ministry chosen building for the new museum which was on the outskirts of a prominent muggle community.

When she'd told Harry, Ron, and Ginny about Narcissa Malfoy's request there'd been mixed reactions. Harry and Ginny had both been a bit surprised but figured it made sense that the witch would use the situation to her advantage. Harry had even said he felt sorry for the git considering the idea of an arranged marriage.

Ron, on the other hand, had been less open. He tolerated Draco in public settings when they crossed paths but there was no love lost between the two wizards.

 _"It's not like it's a date, Ron. This is business. And even if it were, do you really think you have the right to pass judgement on who I date?"_

That had shut him up fairly quickly. His wandering eye was still something their friendship was recovering from now that they were no longer dating. It had been over six months but to Hermione it had been a violation of her trust in him. Even his parents were still irate with him for treating Hermione the way he had.

The first event to celebrate the five year anniversary of the end of the war was the opening of the Ministry's Museum and the exhibit called _A British History of Magic_ in which the Malfoy artifacts would be on display.

Draco showed up on her doorstep at seven sharp and she was impressed when she appraised his appearance.

"A muggle suit and tie, Malfoy," Hermione commented as she closed and warded her flat. "I'm impressed."

The blonde smirked down at her and offered his arm much as he had the day she'd come for dinner at the Manor. She took it easily, the gesture somehow more natural this time around.

"Yes, well you said in your note that wizarding robes or formal muggle attire was appropriate but encouraged the muggle option so I listened."

"Merlin," Hermione laughed lightly as they began down the sidewalk, "if you listen quite that well then I doubt your mother will have trouble finding you a suitable witch to marry."

If she noticed the way the corners of his eyes tightened or the way he appraised the floor length purple dress she was wearing, she didn't say and he honestly preferred it that way. She'd managed her curls into a loose bun for the evening and he found himself oddly itching to set them free.

He'd much prefer to be at home with a cup of tea and a good book in his personal library but duty called. At least her company for the evening would be intelligent. He could always count on Hermione Granger for quick wit. Plus, she was rather nice to look at all dolled up this way and he no longer had any shame in admitting as much.

Oh, how the times had changed.

"It's what's expected of me. You're freer than I'll ever be, Granger," he grinned but the emotion behind it appeared grim.

She supposed that was true. Thanks to her own background, she was free to pursue personal relationships however she pleased. Pureblood children, at least through their generation, were still being made by their parents to follow tradition.

"What are _you_ looking for then, Malfoy? If your mother is so set on this, might be helpful for me to know so I can introduce you to the right women."

Draco smiled at her and for once she truly appreciated the beauty of it. His pale blonde hair was shorter than his father's by far, cropped in a modern style. His grey eyes seemed flat at times but she could see a twinkle of mischief still in them mirroring him from their school days. She swore every time she saw him that he'd grown more. He was a full head taller than her now and her heels only helped so much. He'd filled out a bit over the years as well though he still wasn't the size of someone like Viktor Krum. However, he appeared strong—stronger than she'd expect such a well-to-do prat to look. She shook herself of the thought.

She wasn't really sure when she'd begun to think so but Merlin, if he wasn't handsome these days.

"Not blonde if you can help it, Granger. My mother has been trying to pawn off either Greengrass sister on me for years and there's just no attraction there."

Hermione smiled in return and nodded as they approached the museum. "Alright, no blondes. Don't fancy looking at yourself then. Personality?"

He shrugged as the attendant at the door checked Hermione's Minstry badge and then his ticket. He stealthily grabbed them each a glass of champagne as they stepped inside and joined her by the first exhibit.

He was aware of the various sets of eyes on them. Men were sizing him up and he felt a bit smug honestly about being her escort for the evening. It was no secret that she was much sought after post-Weasel break up. The Prophet had talked about it for weeks. However, she wasn't the type of woman who needed a relationship to be happy and he admired that about her.

"Intelligent. Mother tried passing Pansy Parkinson by me as well and you can imagine how that went."

"But didn't you date her in school," she asked and accepted the glass he handed her.

She was amazed that while he gave her a rather sheepish look, he still managed a confident smirk. Ever the Malfoy.

"As with much of my adolescence, Granger, a passing misjudgment on my part."

"Hmm," she hummed, not minding as he stood close behind her to read the exhibit's plaque over her shoulder. She had always hated it when Ron did that. He'd always been a bit possessive and the proximity irked her when she knew he was only doing it to publicly stake his claim.

Draco was at least interested in the actual artwork and not faking it. She wondered silently to herself when she began to no longer mind his company—even when he was irritating her.

"Right, well what else?"

Draco sipped his champagne as he glanced around the room. His eyes came back to her and for some reason her open expression, the fact that they were having a conversation without the past animosity leaking through made him grin. Of all the people to be accepting of him despite his past, it would be the one muggle-born witch he'd teased badly but he was quickly finding himself very thankful for it.

"Well read, I suppose. I take pride in the upkeep of our library."

"So you expect this woman to live at the Manor then after you're married?"

Grey eyes met brown as she glanced up over her shoulder and she wasn't sure exactly what emotion he was hiding but he clearly didn't want her to know. Guarded suddenly. For all his snarkiness, Draco Malfoy was still terribly guarded these days.

"It's what's expected of me, yes." He paused for a moment as he considered the painting before them and shrugged. "But honestly, I don't care. I'd be open to breaking that tradition and as long as I was married I believe my mother would let it slide."

"She wants grandchildren, doesn't she," Hermione smirked.

"How'd you know," he asked dryly.

She shrugged and moved to the next exhibit, Draco following close behind. "My mother has mentioned children a bit recently as well. I keep having to remind her that I don't even turn twenty-four until September."

He nodded, "But you're settled in a career and on your own so the next logical step in their minds is marriage and children."

She smiled up at him as he plucked an appetizer from a floating tray. "Exactly. See, Malfoy, we're not so different after all." Before he could respond, she spied someone at the next exhibit and tugged on his sleeve discreetly with her free hand. "See that man there? The one with the thick glasses? His wife and daughter are here. He's the French equivalent of the head auror at their ministry. I did a little reconnaissance for you this week. His daughter is twenty, graduated from Beauxbatons, and is an aspiring writer."

Draco followed her line of sight and spotted the witch in question. Willowy thin with chestnut colored hair, she was tall and had a nice smile. Blue eyes. He glanced back at Hermione who was waiting for his reaction and shrugged.

"Sorry, Granger, but she doesn't do much for me."

She frowned as she studied his expression but ultimately nodded. Indeed, completely uninterested.

"Too tall," she guessed.

"A bit," he agreed.

And that was how much of the evening progressed. Too short, too tall, too thin. Bad smile, looks scary, boring hair. The last one really threw her for a loop.

By the end of the evening he'd not spoken to a single witch she'd pointed out though a few had approached him. She moved away to give him a bit of space when that happened and watched discreetly as he held polite conversation with them. It was rather amazing to see the man put in next to no effort and have the women grinning and flirting with him in no time at all.

Also a bit annoying really.

At least she'd not agreed to _assure_ Narcissa Malfoy that she'd find her son a wife by the end of all this. Perhaps the problem was that Draco was just too picky. Or maybe women were shallower than she'd ever realized.

The good news was that their foreign visitors were quite impressed with the magical history on display and the Malfoys addition seemed especially popular. Draco's appearance was well-received even if a few aurors in attendance did sniff indignantly at his presence. Quite a few people stopped to shake his hand and thank his family for allowing their artifacts to be featured. Even Professor McGonagall, who stopped in for the evening, was quite impressed with the artifacts chosen.

"Sorry you didn't find anyone interesting," Hermione spoke as they stood out front. People were emptying out of the building and marching off to safe points to disparate. "We'll try again on Wednesday at the dinner the Ministry is hosting. Not everyone came into the country this early."

Draco shrugged and watched as she ran her hands over her arms. There was a definite chill in the air, more so than usual for this time in May.

"Not to worry, Granger. It wouldn't be the first time my mother would be disappointed. Come on, I'll walk you home."

He ignored her protests when he slipped his suit jacket off and draped it carefully over her shoulders. He didn't comment on the way she discreetly but curiously inhaled the scent of his cologne lingering on the garment or how she pulled the jacket tighter around her small frame as they walked side by side. Had she always been that small? Perhaps he'd never noticed because he was too focused on her larger than life head of curls and intelligence.

"Thanks," she muttered mostly to herself.

Even at Ministry events, she'd not spoken to him as much as she had in just one evening. She was pleasantly surprised by the maturity she'd found he'd gained over the years. And he was funny. The joke he'd made about one of the German minister's overly ornate glasses had surprised her but she'd enjoyed his quick wit.

"So what about you, Granger?"

Hermione turned her attention away from the pavement she'd been studying as they meandered slowly back towards her flat. "What about me?"

"I heard about you and the Weasel." He grinned when she rolled her eyes at his name for Ron. It seemed some things would never change which was a bit of a comfort.

"Yes, I imagine you did. It was all over the bleedin' Prophet," she grumbled.

Draco's brows rose on their own at her sudden dark expression. He'd heard rumor that things had gone a bit sour between the two but didn't realize she was so openly annoyed with the prick.

"Finally wise up and dump his arse? What was the last straw?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "You're awfully nosy. Did you know?" She shook her head when he merely waggled his eyebrows playfully. "He'd started flirting with other women. If I didn't end it, I hate to say he may have actually cheated and I don't think our friendship could have recovered from that. It's not at a hundred percent now as it is. Everyone was angry with him for a while there."

"Why in Merlin's name would that idiot ever even think of cheating on a woman like you, Granger?"

Hermione stopped when she realized they'd made it to her doorstep and turned to face him. "What do you mean 'woman like me'?"

Draco shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable now and accepted his jacket when she handed it back.

"Just that he's never appreciated many of the things right in front of him. You're brilliant, Granger. Far smarter than him. You were always ill-suited if you ask me."

Hermione sighed heavily. "You're actually not the first person to tell me that. I suppose being friends with someone is far different than dating them in terms of compatibility."

Draco nodded as he slid his arms into his jacket and eyed her pointedly as she began to hug her arms again against the cold. "I'd have to agree. Though being friends with your partner is advisable, it's not the sole basis for a romantic relationship. Anyway, thanks for tonight. I'll tell my mother it was eventful. She doesn't need to know I didn't find anyone of interest."

Hermione laughed as his smirk reappeared, realizing in that moment that his smirk was comforting in some odd way—familiar and predictable. She watched as he waved before he turned down the street only to disappear soon at the nearest safe place to disapparate.

As she was changing for bed, she realized that introducing Draco to women at these events wasn't going to be as easy as she thought. She'd always known he was intelligent, though in the past he'd misused that brilliance, but now she realized that he wasn't as simple as she once thought either. He wasn't attracted to the stereotypes most men were. He'd said no to at least three long-legged brunettes, one who had breasts even Hermione had been jealous of and yet he'd merely shrugged.

She'd been so preoccupied with helping him that she'd hardly done any proper networking of her own for work. Most odd of all, she'd enjoyed his company. When the hell had that happened? When had Draco Malfoy become someone she enjoyed being around? Of course they'd known each other for years but they'd never really been able to call themselves friends. However, that's exactly what it felt like with him all evening. It was comfortable—enjoyable even.

"So you mean to tell me that Malfoy was charming," Harry asked the next morning as they walked down Diagon Alley together.

Ginny had an early morning practice and was supposed to meet them for lunch. They had their impending wedding details to discuss and she'd asked Hermione to be the maid of honor.

"I was entirely baffled by it as well, Harry. However, he was on his best behavior and I honestly kind of forgot how he can be a git sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Harry smirked.

"Oh shut it," Hermione laughed.

"Fine, fine. Hey, I need to run into Quality Quidditch Supplies and pick up an order. Want to grab us a table at the restaurant and I'll meet you?"

"Sure."

They parted ways and Hermione picked her way through the early foot traffic. She had to dodge a few people here and there, some kids mock-dueling with toy wands in the middle of the street before she finally approached the restaurant. She wasn't looking directly where she was going, her focus split between the restaurant and a display across the street when she ran smack into a hard body in front of her.

She released a muffled squeak against the tall stranger's chest. Strong hands grasped her shoulders, righting her as she reached up to rub her nose. When she looked up finally, she met amused grey eyes.

"Malfoy! Sorry, didn't see you there."

"Clearly," he smirked. "Bit distracted, I see. Didn't realize you were into," he glanced over her shoulder at the shop display in question, "wedding displays?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and his prattish smirk. Charming only sometimes then.

"Not for me, you git. Ginny and Harry are getting married soon and I'm the maid of honor. I'm here to have lunch with them actually to discuss some of the planning."

"Hmm," he tipped his head thoughtfully, shifting a brown, wrapped package under his arm. "I suppose that means I can't steal you for lunch then. Blaise ditched me today."

Before she could respond and ask just why he wanted to spend extra time with her, Harry and Ginny walked up to join her.

"Fancy seeing you here, Malfoy," Harry greeted, eyeing the wizard curiously. The animosity between them had cooled over the years yet they still maintained a bit of a rivalry of sorts.

Draco turned to him then and eyed the couple. "I was just trying to commandeer Granger for lunch here but I see I'm too late."

Hermione's eyes narrowed when she saw an all too familiar look cross Ginny's face before the redhead opened her mouth to speak.

"You could always join us, Malfoy. I haven't had the chance to hear about the exhibit you two attended yet anyway and we're just discussing a few wedding details."

Hermione appreciated the incredulous look Harry gave his fiancé and nearly snorted. Ginny loved to get involved in her love life, or lack thereof. She'd found the entire deal with the Malfoys incredibly amusing and would love the opportunity to dig deeper, even if it did make Hermione squirm uncomfortably having to dissect her experience with Draco further.

To her slight horror, Draco shrugged and offered her his arm as he'd done both at the manor and at the museum.

"Lead the way then, Potter and soon-to-be Potterette."

Harry rolled his eyes and glared at Ginny who merely grinned at him as they moved to enter the restaurant.

"What are you playing at," Hermione hissed under her breath to Draco as they followed along.

"No idea what you're on about," he shrugged. "Though I'm assuming that your friends know about our little deal, eh Granger?" When she blushed and couldn't meet his eyes then, he knew he had her. Slytherin through and through, he could only wonder what he could weasel out of her for this.

They were seated quickly in a quiet corner of the restaurant, levitating trays of drinks rushing past the tables and menus quickly depositing out of thin air in front of them. Harry scowled when Ginny gave him a rather pointed look as Draco pulled out Hermione's chair for her and seated her first. Hermione could only shrug when he glared at her across the table. She hadn't the slightest idea what had gotten into Draco.

Sure, they'd had a nice time together last night but she didn't think that had instantly transformed their relationship from friendly acquaintances to…whatever this was.

Choosing the avoidance tactic, Hermione jumped right into the wedding topic.

"Did you see the display at Madam Malkins across the street," she asked after she'd chosen her order.

"I did! Definitely might steal the flower arrangement display idea. I'm glad you took me into muggle London to dress shop though." She winked at Harry who just looked between the two women and shrugged.

"When's the big day, Potter," Draco asked casually.

Harry lifted a curious eyebrow at the wizard across from him, shoving down the urge to comment on this social oddity when Hermione shot him a pleading look. She really didn't know what to make of this either and was happy not to divert the so far amiable conversation down that uncomfortable path.

"First Saturday in July," Harry responded, though his tone was a bit guarded.

The past accepted to be in the past, Draco Malfoy had never taken upon himself to join their social circle before now. He'd interacted amiably enough at various events but never attempted to be _this_ friendly. Now Harry could only wonder what Hermione wasn't telling him about the Museum opening last night.

"Let me guess, you made Weasley your best man?"

Harry glanced at Hermione again and nodded. "Yeah. What—did you think I'd be calling you, Malfoy?"

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes at the spectacled man. "Don't be daft, Potter. I just find it unfortunate that you'd pair the great ginger oaf off on Granger, knowing their recent history. Don't you think she'll feel a bit awkward having to partner with him for the ceremony?"

Hermione clenched her teeth in irritation as she eyed the blonde incredulously. Yes, she'd not been thrilled about that prospect but why would she ever consider anything different to happen. They were both Harry and Ginny's best friends. It was just going to be an unfortunate inconvenience for one evening.

"I—I hadn't thought about it," Harry muttered, shooting an apologetic look at Hermione.

"It's fine, Harry," she assured him with a genuine smile. He was like her brother and she'd do anything for him. That included leading a wild goose chase for horcruxes across Britain to defeat a bigoted maniac. Though she'd really rather not repeat that experience.

"She could still bring a date," Ginny offered suggestively. She met Draco's smirk with a conspiratorial grin of her own. Clearly, they were on the same page. She just had no clue of what book. "If you're free, Malfoy, she's allowed a plus one. You could pay her back for her inviting you along to the Ministry's five year celebration events."

"Not a terrible idea," he agreed. He glanced at Hermione next to him and nearly laughed at her wide-eyed expression. "Unless of course you'd rather be shackled with the Weasel for the evening. No offense, Red."

Ginny shook her head. She loved her brother and while he'd technically not done anything horribly wrong, she was still rather annoyed with him. She didn't understand why he'd begun flirting with other women while he was still with Hermione but he had.

"Err…I think Ron might be bringing his new girlfriend," Harry muttered uncomfortably.

Draco met Hermione's stare again and smirked annoyingly once more. "I'm a good dancer and I'll behave myself, Granger. Your call."

She huffed out an incredulous laugh. "Behave yourself? Or do you mean behave like last night and make an arse of yourself only in Ron's presence?"

"Oh for the love of Merlin, just say yes, Hermione," Ginny prodded.

Hermione rolled her eyes with a defeated sigh. "Okay, fine, but only because you proved you were good company at the exhibit. But the second you step out of line and act like a git, I reserve the right to hex you."

"I might like it," he grinned and waggled his pale eyebrows suggestively.

She thrust her hands into her hair and groaned. "Merlin."

"I always thought you'd be a masochist," Harry admitted. "Figures, doesn't it," he asked Ginny.

Draco shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "What can I say? I like strong women. Probably why I've found myself in such a predicament now."

It was Harry's turn to smirk now. He had to wait though as their server came to take their orders. As soon as the witch left though, he picked up from Draco's last comment.

"So the little simpering pureblood witches your mother likes doesn't light your fire then, Malfoy?"

Draco's mouth twisted into a sneer then. Hermione and Ginny both hissed under their breath at him, "Harry!"

Harry shrugged, unbothered. There was something below the surface that he didn't quite like going on here but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"No, it's alright," Draco answered, a smirk reappearing but less kind now. "He's right and I didn't lie last night about any of that. You can ask Granger. Pardon me for preferring women a bit more complex. I'm an arse, Potter; I'm well aware. It doesn't mean I'm not allowed to change and gain some standards."

"Well, what are you looking for then," Ginny asked gently. "Maybe I can help, too, if you're open to witches who aren't just purebloods."

Draco shrugged and paused as their food arrived. He waited for Harry to reach for his water and struck again. "Someone more like Granger probably."

Harry choked on his water, eyes bulging a bit as Ginny whacked him between the shoulders blades with the heel of her hand. He took a deep breath once he regained his control but didn't open his mouth to respond when faced with his fiancé's glare.

"Care to elaborate," Ginny asked. This was far too juicy to just slide under a proverbial rug.

Hermione was far too shocked to speak, just watching the interaction between the two. Sure, she'd wondered about the way he kept looking at her last night. Wondered about the way he kept looking from her to the witches she pointed out to him but she'd never _seriously_ considered that he liked anything about her really. Not to that point anyway. Granted, he hadn't admitted to fancying _her_ specifically, just her qualities.

Draco chewed a bit of his food and set his utensils down carefully. "Intelligent, courteous, kind, someone who can keep me on my toes and isn't afraid to ask for what she wants."

A slow grin took over Ginny's face and she chanced a look in Hermine's direction. She was pleased to find the woman looking rather awestruck.

"That's certainly Hermione." She watched as he nodded, his countenance neutral again. He seemed either unaware of the affect his comments had made on Hermione or he just wasn't going to acknowledge them. "And does blood status still matter to your mother?"

Draco met her eyes as he chewed his food again and swallowed. "Not as much as you'd think," was his simple answer.

"So why not Hermione then?"

Hermione had been completely caught off guard by this whole diversion of their conversation, unable to fathom that Draco Malfoy truly admired any of her qualities. However, she held her breath as she waited for him to answer _that_ question, unsure why she even cared.

He didn't bother to look at her and merely shrugged as he focused on his food again as though this were the most casual conversation in the world. "She'd never consider me so I'd say no."

An odd sort of tension took hold of the table then as Hermione sat awkwardly to his side, unsure what to even say to that. Harry sat slack-jawed and Ginny observed the table carefully. Draco continued to eat as though he didn't even notice.

After another minute or so of odd silence, Harry struck up conversation about the wedding again to try and divert them back down a more normal path. Hermione sat quietly and ate her lunch finally but she hardly tasted it. Each bite felt like ash on her tongue and she couldn't for the life of her understand why.

When had Draco Malfoy come to admire any bit of her over the years? Why had he never said anything when he was normally so forward with his opinions of everyone? Did his mother know? Did she find his admiration for her repulsive? Was that why she'd wanted her to help him find a suitable witch to court? Someone like Hermione so he'd be satisfied? Or was she making entirely too much of all of this? For all she knew, he was just making it all up to get a rise out of them.

In the time she considered her questions, everyone else had finished their lunch. She hadn't noticed when the server returned with the bill, not until she saw Draco reach into his coin bag and pay for her lunch.

"Malfoy—you don't have to…"

Draco shrugged and picked up the small wrapped package he'd been holding when she bumped into him earlier.

"Don't mention it, Granger. I'll be awaiting your owl for the next event."

He bid them goodbye then, leaving so many questions from each person lingering over the table.

"What," Harry began with a shake of his head, "the bloody hell just happened here? Am I mental or did Draco Malfoy basically admit to a crush on Hermione?"

Hermione's head snapped up to meet her friends' eyes. "I—no, surely not," she laughed uncomfortably, "I mean, you can admire someone without having a crush on them, Harry. Though admitting to admiring even one of my qualities is certainly growth for him."

Harry and Ginny shared a look before they turned back to her.

"I think there's more that the prat isn't saying."

"Agreed," Harry nodded.

"Wait until Ron finds out," Ginny grinned.


	3. Just a Rose

**Thanks everyone for your kind reviews. I hope you enjoy the next chapter.**

 **P.S. Google translate is responsible for any mistakes in the French used here. ;)**

* * *

 **Just a Rose**

Hermione distracted herself for the rest of the afternoon by delving back into wedding planning with Ginny. Her friends were kind enough not to revisit the Draco subject just yet and instead focused on the subject at hand. Poor Harry followed them into a few shops before he finally gave up and, with Ginny's permission, left to meet Ron for a drink.

It was while Ginny was placing her flower order with Neville at his shop that the subject of Draco returned.

"Neville's checking to make sure he can have the lilies I want on time. They're out of season apparently," Ginny told her as she joined her by a display of various colors of roses. "Have I ever told you how funny I find it that you love roses so much?"

Hermione turned to her as she drew her nose back from the flowers in question and quirked a questioning brow. "And why's that?"

Ginny shrugged and reached for a pale amber colored rose, certainly not something you'd find in a muggle flower shop. "They're just…"

"Cliché," Hermione offered with an amused grin. "It's okay, Gin. And I guess they are. I think what interests me is how many different varieties they come in and the various meanings. Roses are more complex than people give them credit for."

The redhead nodded as she replaced the sample flower. "You make a good point. I guess it makes more sense when you put it that way." She eyed the display before crossing her arms and facing her friend head on. "So, do you want to talk about what happened at lunch or are we still pretending it didn't?"

Hermione huffed out a nervous laugh and shook her head. "You sure do know how to get right to the point, don't you?"

"It's a special skill," Ginny grinned.

"I don't know what to say exactly. I don't really take it as him admitting to a specific crush on me but rather that I encompass a lot of the traits he's looking for. It's a coincidence is all."

"That's the load of rubbish you're feeding yourself to deny that the man clearly has a thing for you? He didn't even flinch when I suggested _you_ as a potential option." Ginny's eyes widened comically then. "Merlin, what if this whole bit his mother tacked onto your agreement is merely to set you two up?"

"Oh please," Hermione scoffed. "I might be able to believe that Draco Malfoy has a crush on me but I don't believe for one second that his mother would ever encourage it if he did. She was very clear at the dinner I had with them. She clearly said, and I quote, 'eligible, _acceptable'_ witches. I highly doubt I qualify as acceptable."

"Did you ask," Ginny prodded.

"For Godric's sake, Ginny, I don't have to." She turned away from the roses and crossed her arms stubbornly. "I'm muggle-born. His father may no longer try to eradicate me and anyone like me but the man would shit himself if Draco ever brought someone like me home with intentions of marrying them. His mother wouldn't see me as _acceptable_. I don't have the 'breeding'" she made air quotes with her hands. "You weren't there at that dinner, Ginny. Just trust me on this."

Ginny shook her head and turned as Neville approached them. "I think you're reading entirely too much into that."

"And I think you've gone completely barmy," Hermione muttered under her breath.

That was the last Hermione spoke of it for the rest of the afternoon. She shoved Draco Malfoy from her mind as she took a relaxing bubble bath and then read until bed. She was in a far more pleasant mood the next morning as she made her way to her desk. Everything turned on its head though when she opened her office door and spotted a vase sitting amongst her paperwork.

An assortment of various colors of roses was arranged in a lovely ceramic vase. She approached hesitantly and set her bag down in her chair. The fresh scent of the flowers wafted about the small space and she reached for the card carefully, holding her breath and praying it was just Ginny attempting a prank.

 _You're too complicated for just one._

 _DM_

Hermione dropped the card as she sat on the edge of her seat. What in the world was going on anymore?

Fine. If she had to be honest with herself, Draco had been quite pleasant at the exhibit. Had he been anyone else, she'd likely have wished it had been a real date. And it was quite clear that something was going on with him with the way he spoke so admirably of her over lunch yesterday. However, he'd not been sorted into Slytherin for nothing. This entire situation felt like it was spiraling out of control and rather fast.

Yes, his mother clearly wanted him married. Yet every time she replayed the dinner at Malfoy Manor in her head, she came to the same conclusion. Not once had his mother so much as hinted that _she_ , Hermione, would be an acceptable option. So what the hell was going on here?

It was while she was halfway through her morning reports when it hit her.

"Merlin," she whispered to herself in awe.

Without much thought, she left her office and quickly made her way to the legal department on the fifth floor. If her memory served her right, and it always did, he should be on the schedule for his monthly check-in with Susan Bones who monitored all new, regulated businesses. Given that Draco had started his potions company less than two years ago, he still had six months left before the Ministry no longer monitored his trade agreements so closely. It had been a rather strict law put in place post-war to assure that no more witches or wizards could be involved with illicit activities right under the Ministry's nose while passing it off as business.

Hermione missed the rather bewildered looks she received as she pushed past the foot traffic on the fifth floor and rushed towards Susan's office. She tried to look past the frosted glass pane in the door to see who was seated across from the witch's desk. She could just barely make out a pale, blonde head of hair and felt her stomach clench.

Susan answered quickly when she knocked and the woman looked slightly surprised to see her.

"Hermione," she smiled, slightly caught off guard. "What can I help you with?"

Hermione didn't even bother to meet his gaze yet and focused solely on her co-worker. "I need to speak with Malfoy here."

"Ah," she nodded, "Well, we're all done here. See you next time, Draco."

The blonde nodded and stood from his chair. The smirk he turned on Hermione didn't last as the witch grabbed his arm, mildly stunned to realize she couldn't wrap her hand around his bicep, and forced him to follow along behind her.

"Blimey, Granger, if you wanted to manhandle me all you had to do was ask," he quipped as he followed her back into a vacant lift.

Hermione ignored him and pressed the close button. The lift shot off to the left before she hit a button to halt it and turned to face him finally.

"I've got you figured out now, Malfoy. You can stop pretending."

Draco lifted an amused brow and set his briefcase down on the floor as he faced her. "And what exactly am I pretending to be doing?"

Hermione waved a hand dismissively and crossed her arms over her chest. "Being so lovely at the exhibit, saying all those complimentary things over lunch yesterday, _paying_ for my lunch, and those roses you left on my desk—you're trying to piss your parents off so they'll back off of this whole marriage rubbish!"

He stared at her for a moment, blinking owlishly. Her brown eyes watched him expectantly and he couldn't help it—he laughed.

"This isn't funny, Malfoy!"

Draco covered his mouth as he tried to regain his composure and shook his head at her.

"Granger, you can't be that daft. What makes you think I'm trying to piss my parents off by being nice to you?"

"Because if you make them think you fancy me, someone they'd _definitely_ never accept, then they'll back off trying to get a marriage arranged for you as long as you're not after someone like me."

The amusement slipped from his features then and his grey eyes turned cold. He frowned at her but the longer he stared the more that frown turned into a scowl.

"Someone like you, Granger? What? Someone with a decent head on her shoulders? Someone unconcerned with keeping up social appearances? Someone with interests of her own? Someone who'd have more integrity than to tell me one thing to my face to make me happy and say another behind my back?" He shook his head at her and reached for his briefcase. He flicked his wand at the lift buttons and it began moving again. "Pardon me for going against a long history of miserable marriages and hoping I might find someone more in line with my interests, even if I am still the prick everyone sees me as."

The lift doors opened suddenly and he stepped out ahead of her. The atrium was rather deserted as it was mid-morning and no one seemed to notice when she followed him.

"Malfoy, what did you mean by that? History of miserable marriages? I thought your parents—"

Draco snapped back around to her, his jaw clenched in irritation. "Have an amicable relationship _now_. It hasn't always been that way and certainly not when my father decided to go against my mother's wishes and join up with a group of raging monsters, a group that made me join as well before I could fully comprehend the impact of my decision." He stared at her for a moment, blood seething in his veins. Stared so hard he saw her shoulders began to hunch around her. "You don't know _everything_ , Granger. You bleeding little know-it-all!"

Draco left her standing there as he disappeared into the nearest floo. Despite his mother's words, Hermione Granger had just reminded him of exactly why many women here in Britain wouldn't give him the time of day. He was still the conniving bastard who'd bullied everyone who so much as thought differently than him in school. People would do business or socialize with him if it benefited their interests but forget having anything to do with him on a personal level. Women had made that much clear. The few that were interested made him miserable just imagining a lifetime shackled to them. People wanted his money. They didn't really want him.

Narcissa was mildly surprised to see her son arriving home early just after lunch. She watched in silence as he dropped his briefcase in the sitting room and went to pour himself a glass of brandy before collapsing unceremoniously in his favorite armchair.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company, dear, but is there a reason you've returned home so early in the day to sulk?"

Draco glared across the room at his mother and took a sip of his drink in response. He took a calming breath through his nose as the liquid burned down his throat, reminding him that he was indeed alive.

"No, mother," he finally sighed when she lifted an expectant brow. "Merely a frustrating morning. I thought I might take the afternoon off and work from home. It is _my_ company after all."

"Hmm," she frowned, "Yes, well don't remind your father of that. You know how it annoys him to know you started your own company with no help from him."

Draco rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink, cringing at the onslaught of the fire burning his esophagus. "Yes, well that's his doing, now isn't it? Would it kill him to allow me to succeed at just this one thing in life without his influence? Dare I say, his lack of participation is just what has made me a success."

Narcissa sighed to herself and glanced out the arched window into the vast garden below. She spied her husband walking the grounds with his old friend, Chronos Nott, who'd fared much better after the war. Both men were still rather prideful though their sons had learned lessons the hard way because of their selfishness.

"He _is_ proud of you, Draco. Never forget that."

"Yet still oddly unapologetic for the difficulty he's left me with in life," Draco grumbled. "Do you have any idea how pathetic it is to be relying on Hermione _know-it-all_ Granger to try and find me a potential witch to court? Even she thinks very little of me, which isn't exactly surprising given the way I treated her growing up."

Narcissa lifted a curious brow as she studied her son. He'd not spoken of the muggle-born witch with such animosity since their years at Hogwarts. "Did she say something specific, dear?"

Draco shrugged to himself, realizing perhaps he'd said too much already. His mother was giving him that inquisitive look again, the one where she knew he wasn't saying everything.

"No, mother. She just doesn't trust me and I don't particularly blame her." Though he was feeling rather petulant about it. What did he have to do for her to trust him?

Narcissa sat back in her chair and reached for the book she'd set aside. She missed her son's wistful smile as she reached for her cup of tea as well.

"Well, perhaps you ought to make amends dear. While her helping us in this way is an unofficial part of our agreement to loan out the Malfoy artifacts, you were quite terrible to her from what you've always said about your interactions with her. She's become quite influential within the Ministry as well. It surely wouldn't hurt to be on her good side. Send her flowers. Most women appreciate the gesture."

Draco snorted to himself and shook his head. "I get the feeling she's not exactly the flower type, mother but thank you for the advice."

"You'll figure it out, Draco. Just try to be nice to her, no matter what you think of her these days."

He rested his head against the back of his chair. Be nice. Yes, he'd tried that and it had clearly backfired.

Hermione, for her part, was stunned. She'd been on the receiving end of his fury in school enough times to know that he could be harsh but she'd never seen such an emotionally raw reaction from him and wasn't even certain that he was aware of what he'd revealed to her.

Draco was worse than just viewed poorly because of his past. He was stuck in a system that had made so many miserable and he clearly didn't want to be another victim of it.

The question that plagued her and kept her focus from her work for the rest of the day was just how she was supposed to help with that. And for some reason she felt compelled to help. Something about that rage within him, even if momentarily misdirected at her, made her heart squeeze for him.

"I shouldn't even be telling you any of this, Ginny," Hermione worried her lip as the women sat in her living room that evening with tea.

"It's never good to bottle things up, as you like to remind everyone," her friend countered. "But seriously, I would have never guessed that Malfoy was so bitter. I mean he strutted around Hogwarts like his life was so perfect I guess it never crossed my mind that he could be unhappy at home."

"I don't even know what good me introducing him to any of the women at these events is going to do. His mother is still searching for the equivalent of an arranged marriage. She never mentioned him finding someone he _liked_. She just said suitable. How horrible is that?"

Ginny shook her finger in warning as she watched her friend stare pitifully at her tea cup. "As much as I'm convinced he might actually fancy you a bit—don't even start, Hermione. He's not a house elf or some other magical creature you can take on as a lost cause. He's _Malfoy_. He's a grown man who could just as easily stand up to his parents and tell them to shove off if he really wanted to."

"He wouldn't do that, Ginny. Odd as it might be for someone like him, he's loyal to family even when they clearly make him unhappy. Not once has he hinted that he would go against his mother's wishes, only that he was trying to make it work for him." She frowned then, "I feel so terrible. I mean sure he's still a bit conniving and he really annoys the hell out of me sometimes, but I really assumed the worst of him without reason to do so. You should have seen the way he looked at me—"

Before Ginny could respond, Harry tumbled out of the floo followed by Ron next and both brushed off their clothes.

"What are we talking about," Harry asked with a smile.

"Malfoy," both women answered simultaneously.

Ron's upper lip curled in disgust and he moved to take a seat on the sofa opposite of Hermione while Harry perched on the arm of the chair Ginny was occupying.

"Harry told me he wormed his way into being your date for the wedding," Ron noted.

"And your point is," Ginny snapped at her brother.

Ron shrugged, his cheeks flushing pink. "Just that she needs to be careful. We all know him. He's slick and I guarantee he has ulterior motives."

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "Ron, trust me when I tell you that I'm truly beginning to believe we know very little about Draco Malfoy. At least not anymore."

Ron rolled his eyes though he was trying to temper his reaction. He knew very well that she was still upset with him and he really was trying not to screw up their friendship entirely.

"Come on, Hermione. The Malfoys have always been selfish bastards. He wants something. Why else would he want to escort you to the wedding?"

Harry frowned at him after that but remained silent. Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously but with a shared look with Harry, she held her tongue. It was best to let them have this out now rather than at the wedding.

Hermione laughed hollowly. "Why else would Malfoy want to escort me, indeed. Not at all that he might enjoy my company. Not that he might have come to respect me. Or," she released a strained laugh, "that he might even have come to _like_ me. Merlin forbid any of those were true. Why would he ever find someone like me appealing at all?"

Ron cringed, realizing his poor choice of words. "Hermione, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's not just you, Ronald. It's everyone. I'm guilty of it, too." She sighed as her own words soaked in and felt some of her anger slip away. "We've all done what we're expected to do based upon our background because history dictated it. Perhaps it's time to let go a little."

She sent Draco an owl later that night to remind him of the Ministry hosted dinner they were attending Wednesday evening. He responded promptly but didn't comment on her short apology. Ultimately, she felt that was probably just as well. The entire situation was becoming rather confusing. She'd much prefer to return to their normal equilibrium of him teasing her good naturedly and her rolling her eyes at him. This whole emotional investment in him was beginning to feel rather odd. Like an old knot in her stomach that was beginning to slowly unravel, unfamiliar kinks threatening to scrunch up again.

He was making her feel things for him that she didn't quite understand.

Instead of going home again, she merely stayed late Wednesday and worked until he knocked on her office door.

"Granger," Draco greeted neutrally.

Hermione watched him naturally gravitate to the knick-knacks on her bookshelves as she straightened her paperwork. She noted that he went for the snow globe again, content to shake up the fake snow and watch the tiny dragons within swoop around the miniature mountain peaks.

"How's your week so far," she asked. It seemed polite to inquire. Oddly, she realized she'd never held such polite, idle chit-chat with him before as their conversations generally got right to the point.

Draco shrugged and replaced the trinket as he turned to face her. "Your guilt has been noted, Granger. No need to tip-toe around me."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his smirk but was rather relieved to see his good-natured expression return. She liked him best when he wasn't so broody.

Her mind stuttered then. Liked him? Did she?

Well, maybe just a little, she decided when he held his arm out to her as she rounded her desk.

One thing she could certainly say for him was that he'd treated her with respect throughout this odd arrangement. A far cry from their teenage selves but she wasn't complaining.

"What's the point of this particular little cross-cultural get-together," he asked as they entered the lift for the atrium.

"I think you'll like this one best of all, Malfoy. It's business casual but it's primarily for corporate elbow rubbing."

"Elbow rubbing I can do," he nodded as he followed her from the lift. "And they like me abroad if my sales numbers mean anything."

Truthfully, his business was doing quite well from what she heard. It seemed the war hadn't hurt his business reputation at all which was positive at least.

Hermione watched him as he sipped a drink he'd grabbed from a levitating tray and observed his eating habits when they sat down with a group of French and German investors. The woman to her left seemed like she might be his type. She struck up a casual conversation and found that she was an entrepreneur from Paris and graduate of Beauxbatons.

"Malfoy," she asked in slightly accented English, "as in Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione glanced at the blonde next to her, surprised to see that he'd eaten his entire meal already while still managing conversation with the businessman next to him and was now savoring the chocolate mousse. She'd been too distracted over the weekend at lunch to notice and of course they'd never shared meals at Hogwarts but apparently he had quite the sweet tooth.

"Yes, he's the CEO of Potion Master's Incorporated. I believe they distribute in France."

"They do," the woman answered, watching him from Hermione's other side.

Something about the way the brunette witch eyed him closely, her eyes roving over his features and drinking him in, unnerved her. Deciding she was being silly, she tapped his shoulder and made the introductions.

"Malfoy, this is Paulette DeCuire. She's an investor out of Paris and recently started her own upscale fragrance brand."

Draco met her eyes calmly before he glanced at the smiling woman to her left. "Merveilleux de vous recontrer, Mlle Decuir." _Wonderful to meet you, Miss DeCuire._

"Le Plaisir est pour moi. J'ai beaucoup entendu parler de vous et de votre entreprise." _The pleasure is mine. I've heard a lot about you and your business._

"Toutes les bonnes choses que j'espère." _All good things I hope._

Seeing that they were conversing well without her, she thought maybe this one might interest him more than the others she'd tried to introduce him to last time.

If that was a good thing, why did she feel so odd?

"I'm going to get another drink," she smiled and excused herself.

Paulette watched as she left and smiled at him. Draco tried to ignore the odd pang of discomfort and reached for his own drink.

"Vous deux êtes proches?" _You two are close?_

One corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk and he shook his head. "Malheureusement non." _Unfortunately not._

Paulette smiled knowingly. He was attractive but she wasn't about to move in on another witch's man. Whether that witch knew it or not.

"Elle parle très fort de toi. Peut-être essayer un peu plus fort alors." _She speaks very highly of you. Perhaps try a little harder._

When Hermione returned, she found Draco sitting alone finishing his dessert. The man he'd been speaking to and Paulette had moved off to dance to the light jazzy tunes from the wizarding band the Ministry had hired for the evening.

"What happened with Paulette," she asked.

Draco turned to face her in time to watch her take a bite of the decadent mousse he'd also enjoyed. She smudged a bit on her lower lip and he watched closely as the tip of her tongue darted out to catch it.

He shrugged and gulped down the rest of his drink. "She said she'd let me know when she was in London for business again."

Hermione smiled broadly and bumped shoulders with him like they were old friends. She didn't catch his surprised look at her casual behavior. "See there, that's progress."

Draco snorted and leaned back in his chair to wait until she was done eating. He loathed the situation he was in; found it intolerably mortifying that Hermine Granger was trying to help him find his future wife. He despised appearing weak at anything but especially in front of her.

She'd been besting him at everything since they were eleven years old. She was a near literal force to be reckoned with and to be weak in her presence just drove his ego down a notch. It wasn't something someone like him enjoyed at all.

He turned his attention back to her as she pushed the dish aside. For some reason, without even using his good sense of reason, he reached out and swiped his thumb over the corner of her mouth where she still had a smudge of the dessert.

They both froze upon contact for what felt like a lifetime but in reality was only a matter of seconds before he managed an arrogant smirk and withdrew his hand. "You make a mess, Granger."

His teasing tone was once more contrasted by the fact that he stupidly drew that thumb back to his own mouth without any thought and licked it clean.

Hermione felt her heart thud hard against her chest, loud and taunting in her ears as blood rushed to her cheeks. Had he done that on purpose? What was he playing at again? Was this just how he normally was with his female friends when he comfortable around them or was something else truly going on here?

Merlin, her mind didn't have the ability to categorize so many questions with as quickly as it was firing them off at the moment.

Luckily, they were interrupted before either could acknowledge just what had happened.

"Miss Granger," her supervisor grinned from behind them.

Hermione stood from her seat quickly, vaguely aware when Draco followed suit but more slowly.

"Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith," she nodded to him and his wife with a friendly smile plastered on her face.

She'd never been more thankful to have the old man interrupt her before in her life. Truly, he was kind as could be and she really did enjoy working with him. He was terribly fascinated by her mind though and apparently had handpicked her when she'd first applied at the Ministry after Hogwarts. He felt her background and brains were just what the new department needed to bring the British magical community together.

That all being said, he could be a bit oblivious sometimes. She had to explain things that she honestly couldn't quite comprehend why someone wouldn't grasp the first time. However, she imagined that wasn't what had gotten him the job as the head of the Community Relations Department. He was a great conversationalist and had a knack for getting through to some of the most stubborn witches and wizards. That and he was actually quite open to forward thinking. He'd been on board with her ideas to get through to some of the more outcast pureblood families when the Ministry wanted to get their artifacts collections on loan for this event. Though approaching the Malfoys had actually been his own suggestion.

Mr. Smith smiled good naturedly and gestured towards Draco. "I had heard you'd brought an escort to the Museum and here again tonight."

Hermione jumped a little as if poked, realizing her manners. "Oh yes, sir. This is Mal—err…Draco. Draco Malfoy. He was interested when I spoke with him about the events after we discussed the loan of his family's artifacts and I invited him to attend. We were in the same year at Hogwarts."

Hermione knew good and well that her boss knew the Malfoy name and though sometimes oblivious, he likely very well knew that they'd not been friends growing up considering the side the Malfoys had taken during the war and her being muggle-born.

That being said, his smile never faltered and she couldn't be more thankful for it.

"Ah, yes, the youngest Malfoy." He held his hand out for a shake and Draco responded politely and grasped the man's hand. "I do believe I've heard your name in the business world quite a bit recently. A potion company you've started, yes?"

Draco inclined his head in a slight nod, a bland smile on his face. He was the picture of polite society indeed and Hermione quickly gathered why he was didn't enjoy it. It was almost frightening how quickly he was able to transform in social situations.

"Yes, you'd be correct. We're also getting ready to dabble in cauldron making. The old options leave much to be desired when students can so easily burn right through when the wrong ingredients are added to their brew."

"Too right!" Mr. Smith chuckled.

"Are you enjoying yourselves, dears," his wife smiled as she finally spoke.

"Excellent planning the Ministry has done from what I've seen. No complaints here," Draco smiled charmingly at the woman.

Hermione nearly snorted. No, she didn't like this side of him at all. Is this really how all pureblood children were taught to behave in society? No doubt he was charming but she knew him. Knew him better than most if she were honest. She much preferred his honest snark oddly accompanied by his polite manners.

"Miss Granger, I saw that you're not listed as participating in this weekend's quidditch tournament. I'd hoped to have representation from our department," Mr. Smith hinted with an encouraging smile.

Hermione swallowed uncomfortably. Merlin, anything but that. She loved her job and usually jumped at whatever opportunity was presented to her to be involved. But not quidditch. Just no.

She shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, wishing she'd worn flats instead of heels. "Err…sir, I don't play. I've honestly never played actually and I really don't fly. I've never quite overcome my fear of it."

He lifted a questioning brow at her, a frown now upon his large face. "Well, how disappointing to learn. I imagined a witch of your caliber and skill would have no fear of flying."

Oh, how she hated that encouraging tone right now. He really did mean well and she knew it but this wasn't something she thought she could budge on.

Draco watched their conversation with veiled interest and nearly laughed to himself when the man's wife shifted her eyes suggestively from him and then towards her husband.

He sighed to himself though and took the bait. "Perhaps you'd allow someone to fly on her behalf? I've been known to be a fair flyer in my day and I've played more than my fair share of the game."

Hermione would dissect his motivations later but right now she couldn't have been more thankful. She eyed her boss hopefully and didn't say a word, lest he protest and insist she participate.

After a moment the men just staring at each other, Mr. Smith's face finally bloomed with a bright smile.

"What a delightful idea! In fact, nothing better than to have someone of the British community playing on one of our employee's behalf. I'll have you signed up right away."

Mrs. Smith winked at him and followed as her husband bounded off to do just that.

Hermione deflated with relief and turned to face him. "Merlin, Malfoy, I owe you one. I don't even care what you ask for just…thank you."

Draco studied her closely, noting the relaxed nature of her shoulders and the return of her friendly smile. He decided that at least made it worth it.

"I'll save your repayment for later," he finally answered with his usual smirk.

Hermione laughed as she moved to retake her seat at the table. "I don't even care right now. I'm just relieved to not have to play in that horrendously dangerous game."

He didn't comment after that but merely nodded. For some reason, the idea of her being on a broom and having bludgers knocked around in her direction didn't sit well with him anyway. Skilled witch that she was, she was clearly terrified of the idea. Therefore it was a small sacrifice really and he hadn't had a chance to play in a while anyway.

After he'd greeted a few fellow business owners and even made a potential connection for distributing his products in Japan, he agreed it was time to go when Hermione gathered her coat.

"I'll walk you home," he'd told her and she'd done well in keeping her mouth shut and not arguing.

In a way, it felt kind of nice being on the receiving end of his manners. It wasn't like there were other men offering to walk her home or pull out her chair in public. Ron certainly never had. Sure, he'd walked her home the first few months of their relationship when it was after dark but that eventually went the way of the timer turner. He got lazy and maybe so did she because she preferred it to his awkward goodnight kiss.

"So who am I to play with on Saturday," he asked as they walked at a comfortable pace.

She noted how he made a point to move to the outside edge of the sidewalk, putting himself between her and the street. Unnecessary really but rather sweet nonetheless.

"Our department is teaming with Control of Magical Creatures and each team will have foreign members joining on as well. The matches will be a shortened version with a much lower max score so as to move things along. You'll probably have to play against Harry and Ron at some point."

Draco rolled his eyes at that but merely smirked. "I'm a bit too tall for seeker these days so perhaps they'll allow me a chance at being a beater. Would be fun to knock Potter off his broom a time or two for old time's sake."

"Behave, Malfoy," she warned. "We'd prefer no one get seriously hurt."

He snickered as she expected and she merely shook her head at him. Some things would just never change.

They turned the last corner and Hermione squinted as they approached her flat. Her eyes widened suddenly and she cursed under her breath.

"Mum," she blinked quickly as her mother turned towards them. "What are you doing here?"

Mrs. Granger smiled warmly and drew her daughter into a warm hug. She lifted a curious brow as she let her go and eyed the tall blonde standing a step or two behind her.

"Dropping off the dress I ordered for you online, sweetheart. The one for your friends' rehearsal dinner coming up. I hung it up in your closet."

Draco watched the two women with interest. Her mother was an inch or two taller and he quickly gathered where she got her curls from though but her mother's were streaked with a few gray hairs and not near as abundant. Same chocolate brown eyes, too.

"Who's your friend," her mother asked, an interested smile on her lips.

Hermione swallowed and felt like crawling into a hole. It was just one thing after another lately. What had she done to deserve such discomfort?

"Mum, this is Draco. He's been my escort for the History of Magic events I told you about. He was just walking me home."

Draco watched as her mother scrutinized him quite literally from head to toe. The muggle woman's face scrunched as she looked him over, almost like she was trying to place him, as if they'd met before sometime.

"Draco," Mrs. Granger repeated. "Draco Malfoy? The boy that used to bully you in school?"

It was his turn to feel like crawling into a hole. Merlin help him, for whatever stupid reason he'd never considered that he'd have ever been dinner conversation for the Granger family. He'd always figured that he was such a miniscule part of Hermione's life at Hogwarts. Clearly not.

Draco swallowed uncomfortably and held out his hand. "Yes, I'm that giant prat. Or cockroach as I believe she called me a time or two. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Granger. I assure you I apologized ages ago. I doubt your daughter would allow me the pleasure of her company otherwise."

She eyed his hand and then him again as she finally shook it.

"Well, he certainly has better manners than your friend Ron. I never did appreciate that he never walked you home when you were dating."

Draco released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and glanced down at Hermione with a confident smirk again.

"Mum, not now," Hermione muttered as she shook her head.

"What," Mrs. Granger asked feigning innocence. "He's a good friend to you, dear. However, he's not the man for you. I'm not disappointed you ended it. Seems you've upgraded anyway." She winked conspiratorially at Draco to which he grinned. "The past is that past after all. People are allowed to change."

Hermione drew a deep breath to calm herself and forced a smile for her mother. "Yes, well, Draco was just on his way home. Do you have time to come in and I'll try on the dress?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

Hermione waited until her mother used her key to unlock the door and disappeared inside. She turned back to Draco to find him smirking at her as usual.

"Don't even start, Malfoy. I'll straighten my mother out but just…no mocking."

"I didn't say a word," he laughed.

However, watching her stand there under the lamplight from the street and still in her demure work clothes, he wished he could say something more. At the end of a long day, her curls were threatening to rebel from the up-do she'd managed that morning and her eyes were tired, yet despite those things he could honestly say he'd never seen a woman more beautiful.

It had likely been creeping up on him for years honestly as they traded barbs at various events. Yes, he enjoyed getting her dander up but he also respected her. She frustrated him but he was coming to realize that it was in the best ways. He'd not been lying in Diagon Alley to her friends. Sadly, he'd also not been lying when he said he didn't think she'd ever have him.

He reached into his waistcoat and produced a small seed. With a quick wandless spell, it bloomed and grew into a single white rose.

 _New beginnings._

Hermione took the flower when he handed it to her, slightly awed at the gentle gesture. She didn't even budge when he gave her a gentle, playful knock to her chin before he departed.

"Goodnight, Granger."


	4. A Public Display

**Thank you all for your lovely and inquisitive reviews. I haven't truly teased you...yet. Read on...**

* * *

 **A Public Display**

Game day.

Draco found himself donning the black and white quidditch robes of the team he'd be playing on for the event early that morning in the locker room. The Ministry had bargained with McGonagall to utilize the pitch at Hogwarts and it all felt far too familiar.

He'd seen her only once so far and that was merely in passing as he observed her giving the Ministry's foreign visitors a tour of the castle. Something about the way her eyes lit with joy while describing the library and other favorite spots sent a jolt straight to his groin. There was just nothing sexier to him than a woman so enthusiastic and confident about the things she loved. Perhaps her tendency towards being a know-it-all had somehow become attractive to him in recent years and he'd not realized it until now.

He was surprised to learn that he'd been wrong about which position he'd play. Despite now standing 6'3" and a few inches over the average seeker, they'd asked him to take up the position he was most familiar with.

Lucky him, their first match was against Potter's team. Joy. Just what he wanted—to have Hermione watch him get his arse handed to him by Saint Potter and company.

Thankfully, his team was fine with his addition and actually relieved to have someone who could play seeker and possibly hold their own against Potter. Dean Thomas and Angelina Weasley, née Johnson, were leading them. Both had seemed rather surprised to see that he was playing on Hermione's behalf. He'd merely shrugged and didn't bother to offer an explanation. People had seen them together now at two different events and he figured rumors might be swirling. He'd also seen that rat, Rita Skeeter, in the stands when they first walked out onto the pitch. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the witch.

Draco shared a nod of acknowledgement with Potter just before they kicked off the ground on their brooms. He rose above the pitch and hovered for a moment as he took in the game play around him. He spotted Hermione seated with Potter's wife and her boss with his wife. She gave him a small, discreet wave and he turned his focus back to the game. Merlin help him but he wasn't going to look bad today with her watching.

Little did he know, Hermione couldn't have cared less how well he did or even if their team won. She merely wanted him to stay safely on his broom. She'd forgotten that Cormac McLaggen was on Harry's team and she knew for a fact that he was less than forgiving of Draco's past. They'd put him on as a beater and she was a bit nervous that he'd not play fair.

"Fancy that, you care about the git," Ginny grinned as she bumped shoulders with Hermione.

"Oh, do shut up," she grumbled in return.

Ginny just had to ask about the lone white rose now sitting in a slender vase on her coffee table that morning when she came over. She'd not really been able to articulate what she was feeling then and wasn't really anymore ready now. She just couldn't feel anything for him though. It would only end up with her getting hurt in the end if she did. She could never imagine he'd go against his parent's wishes and she still felt strongly that they'd never accept her. This, as she was now beginning to admit only to herself, crush on him was very ill-suited.

But damn if he wasn't charming when he wanted to be. Oddly kind also. No man had ever thought to be so old fashioned as to put himself between her and the street while walking. Ron had certainly never sent her flowers. Chocolate frogs, definitely, but never flowers. And he was so oddly observant and ready to stand up for her if needed which was evident by the fact that he was flying for her right now.

The polite applause he'd received when they'd announced his name and who he was flying on behalf of was pleasantly surprising. She imagined that their being seen together recently wasn't a terrible thing for his image and she honestly didn't mind. It was clear as day to her that he'd changed.

Hermione watched him hover above the pitch, his head turning and bobbing quickly as he scanned for the snitch. Her breath caught when he dove suddenly, Harry hot on his heels.

Ginny grinned as she watched her friend from the corner of her eye. "They'll be fine, you know."

"I hate this bloody sport," she muttered.

"Which is why he's flying for you right now. Kind of sweet really."

Hermione glared at her and resumed her focus on the blurs on brooms. "Come off it, would you?"

"Just admit you fancy him, even a little, and I'll drop it."

She closed her eyes for a moment and cringed when she saw his smirking face even behind her lids. They fluttered open after a moment and she sighed heavily. There was just no mistaking that heavy feeling in her chest. That feeling that both made her heart race and her body melt.

"Yes, a little," she admitted.

And it hurt terribly.

She nearly laughed to herself. Here they were celebrating five years since the end of a war intent on tearing their magical community apart and in reality they were still fighting against barriers. Draco Malfoy would never be available to her beyond a friendly acquaintance.

The Malfoy she knew would go after what he wanted, no matter the consequences. Therefore, no matter what kind words he had for her these days or how he admired her qualities, he clearly wasn't seriously interested in her that way. Worse still, his family wouldn't like it if he were and she really had no desire to find herself dealing with people who didn't want her around their son. It was easier to let go.

"Oh shit," Ginny muttered quickly and stood to lean against the box seat's railing.

Hermione looked up to see what she'd missed and felt her heart stop in her chest. Cormac had just knocked into Draco roughly, nearly causing him to fall off his broom in the process. She watched nervously as the two wizards shared what appeared to be less than polite words before Cormac zoomed across the pitch towards a bludger.

It happened so quickly after that. The bludger met its target at just the moment when Draco spied the snitch again. The ball hit him square across the right side of his chest and no matter his skill flying a broom, he quickly tumbled off it.

Without any thought, Hermione sprung to her feet, wand out and shouted, "Arresto momentum!"

His falling slowed enough that she thought he'd at least survive the impact. Without so much as a glance back at Ginny or those seated around her, she rushed out of the stadium and onto the pitch quicker than she'd ran in years. Somehow she'd managed to beat the healers to the pitch and pushed past the referee and Harry and Ron to reach him.

She never should have allowed him to fly on her behalf. Never should have encouraged it. It should have dawned on her that he'd be an easy target for anyone petty and closed-minded. Cormac had never liked Draco and wasn't really one to believe people could change apparently. According to Harry, that had gotten him demoted recently as he didn't feel the man could be impartial which was crucial for an auror.

However, it was too late now. The bludger had struck him in the chest.

Harry joined her as she knelt in the grass and waited for her to tell him what to do just as he'd always done during the war.

"Is he breathing," he asked, earnest concern in his voice.

Hermione positioned his head on her knees and pressed two fingers against his pulse. She sighed when she felt a steady beat under her fingers and nodded.

"Yes, but that thing hit him hard, Harry."

The healer, an older man, finally made it to her side and knelt down with them in the grass.

"He's breathing, yes?"

Hermione nodded, her teeth digging into her lower lip anxiously. Watching him fall from his broom reminded her all too much of the time it had happened to Harry third year.

"Good, good. Quite a hit he took. Help me open his robes so we can see what damage it did to his chest."

Hermione undid his outer robes and helped the healer pull his jumper up so he could examine him. She nearly growled when the man tutted under his breath and wanted to scream at him to do something and not just make ridiculous noises. He was breathing but he was unconscious for God's sake!

She watched as the man waved his wand over him, muttering a stream of incantations before he reached for his bag of supplies.

"He certainly can't finish the game of course. He's going to be bruised quite badly. He'll need bedrest and to take this potion every six hours for the next twenty-four hours."

"Of course," she nodded.

"Merlin, Granger," Draco's voice sounded like sandpaper on a chalkboard when he spoke. He managed a lazy smirk when she glanced down at him, relief clear in her brown eyes when he woke. "If you'd wanted to feel me up, you should've just asked."

Hermione's eyes widened and she pursed her lips in irritation. "You bloody prat, I'd smack you if you weren't already hurt!"

She didn't appreciate when Harry sat back on his haunches and laughed loudly at the return of Malfoy's easy teasing. However, she merely rolled her eyes at the two men and sighed. Some of the tension was gone from the air at least.

Harry shook his head after a moment, regaining his composure. "Come on, I'll help you get him off the pitch."

The crowd cheered when they had him standing, one arm slung over either of their shoulders. He grunted as they shuffled him off the pitch but he didn't complain about the pain he was clearly in—the pain for which Hermione now felt responsible.

She shot a heated glare in Cormac's direction and was pleased to find the git being told off by the referee.

"Can you get him home, Hermione," Harry asked.

Draco shifted to alleviate her of some of his weight when Harry moved from under his arm. He nodded at her when she glanced up at him for confirmation.

"I'll be fine, Harry. Just be safe and I swear, do something about McLaggen!"

Harry snorted, "Oh, no worries about that. Even Ron would agree that it was a cheap shot."

"We'll have to take the floo in the castle," Hermione told Draco once Harry left.

"I can get myself home, Granger," he groaned as they ascended the stone steps.

"Oh please, Malfoy. You can barely stand upright as it is. You can stuff your little moment of male pride and just let me get you back to the Manor in one piece."

Draco growled under his breath at her and the idea of having to return home like this. His mother was going to have bloody kittens.

They made it as far as the visitor floos and into the main entryway before his mother appeared. She looked predictably horrified as she rushed over to him.

"Merlin, what happened, Draco?"

Hermione glanced at him and could see him still clenching his jaw so she decided to jump into the fray. What did she have to lose anyway?

"He was knocked off his broom when a member of the rival team hit a bludger at him. Quite purposefully actually as it caught him in the chest. He's fine but he'll need rest and I've got the potion the healer wants him to take for his pain."

Narcissa tsked and shook her head. "I've always hated that horrible sport. Terribly uncivilized." She turned her attention to Hermione then who was still supporting some of Draco's weight as he had an arm over her shoulders. "Thank you for escorting him home, Miss Granger. So sorry things went poorly today."

Draco didn't miss the curious look in his mother's eyes or the way the wheels in her mind seemed to be turning already. Instead, he gave Hermione's shoulders a squeeze and made to move towards the staircase that would lead to his wing.

"Help me upstairs, would you, Granger?"

It would honestly be better to allow the small witch to help him settle in bed rather than have his mother worry once she saw the horrible bruising already blossoming on his chest. It was bad enough that he could feel it. If it looked anything at all like if felt then it was going to be horrible.

She gave him a questioning look but didn't argue.

Narcissa watched the pair shuffle carefully up the staircase and a slow smile took over her features.

Meanwhile, Hermione turned her back to Draco as he shed the dirty quidditch robes in his room. She was desperately trying to distract herself by examining his décor, a bit surprised by it. For some silly reason she'd always imagined he'd decorate with all black or perhaps an even more stereotypical green and grey but what she found was a more mature look. Rich mahogany furniture contrasted with the deep grey walls. Small knick-knacks adorned his dresser—family trinkets and bits of quidditch memorabilia. Framed art decorated the walls tastefully and it all reeked of wealth if she were honest. In fact, his wing of the Manor was quite elegant. Not as gaudy as she'd have imagined when she'd taken in what she could on their way up.

He cleared his throat behind her and she glanced over her shoulder cautiously. He'd clearly scourgified himself as the grass and smudges of dirt were gone from his face. However, when her eyes traveled a tiny bit south fresh blood worked itself across her cheeks when she saw that he'd changed but had forgone a shirt. She'd not been wrong about him filling out a bit in the last few years. She only wondered what he did to be that toned.

Draco inclined his head and he looked to have lost some of his energy again now that he was propped amongst his pillows.

"Got that pain potion, Granger," he asked.

"Oh," she nodded and quickly withdrew the bottle from her bag. She measured out a dose with the small cup the healer had given her and handed it to him as she approached the side of the bed closest. She took a seat on the edge of the chair nearby and folded her hands neatly in her lap while he downed the potion.

Draco's face screwed up into a scowl at the taste and he smacked his lips together as he tried to clear his mouth of the foul potion. "You'd think with all of our progress that we'd be able to make these bloody things taste better."

Hermione cracked a small smile at his quip and watched as he leaned his head back against the pillows. "Yes, you would think. Perhaps that's something you can get to work on, isn't it?"

He smirked at her before lifting a hand and pointing towards his nightstand. "There's a salve in there to help with bruising. Second drawer. Hand it to me?"

She nodded and scooted off the chair to retrieve it. She eyed the label closely and frowned. "I don't think I've ever heard of this before. Is it new?"

Draco nodded as she came closer with it. "Something I've been working on." He glanced down at his own chest and back to her brown eyes. He liked it when she looked at him like that—as if she liked him. "Pugilism in case you're curious. Took it up after the war to let off some steam." He smirked up at her, "It's okay if you like what you see, Granger."

Hermione huffed indignantly and rolled her eyes. "God, you're such a pompous prat sometimes."

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "You seem to like it these days."

She studied his relaxed form, from the defined abdominals all the way to his content facial features, and decided she couldn't argue.

"Are you expecting me to apply this for you," she asked after a moment and nearly groaned aloud when he nodded, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Merlin," she grumbled under her breath and rested on the very edge of his bed, careful not to get too close.

Draco kept his eyes closed and waited. He heard her uncap the jar and yet it was still a few moments before she touched him. It was rather devious of course but he found it difficult to resist the urge.

Her hand was warm when it made contact with his sore skin. Her fingers were gentle as they worked the salve in small, soothing circles. And he was nearly instantly on fire. The pads of her fingertips pressed into his skin, the faint dull pain keeping him in control just enough to not lose his mind to her touch.

He opened his eyes slowly after a moment and met her anxious brown eyes. He decided he definitely now liked the color of them. Dark and so warm, sensual almost. Did she even know?

He watched as she bit her lower lip, her breath stuttering when he leaned closer to her, ignoring the twinge of pain in his muscles as he did so. The distance between them suddenly shrank until he felt the nervous puffs of her breath ghosting across his mouth. Her breath was sweet, minty even.

Who the hell cared anymore?

Hermione felt her heart jolt when Draco closed the distance and pressed his lips firmly to hers, catching her lower lip between them. She could hardly do anything besides let him kiss her, her mind stuttered out and left her for a moment. She felt the shiver of a spark when their skin first touched and it was different from anything she'd ever felt before when being kissed. Like something clicking into place, a jolt of energy pairing with her own.

Draco had heard others speak of what it felt like—that jolt of emotion, passion—when you found the right person but had never imagined he'd ever experience it himself. Not with what was expected of him. However, even he knew this was different.

He lifted his good arm to thread his fingers through those unruly curls she'd pulled back on one side but she jerked away from him violently. He stared into her wide eyes, her lips swollen and flushed from his attention.

She fled then, her feet carrying her quickly across his room and wrenching the door open before he could protest. She leaned her back against it carefully once she was safely on the other side. Her chest heaved with panted breaths and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sting of tears threatening to break free.

"No," she muttered to herself. "No, no, no."

She fled from the Manor, not even noticing his mother as she passed by to get to the floo where she'd arrived. She didn't notice his mother's inquisitive look, didn't think of anything but running from her own stupidity.

Draco emerged from his room the following morning after a sleepless night. He'd requested one of the house elves bring him a particular selection of books and spent the night scouring them for information.

"How are you feeling, dear," his mother asked when he ambled into the family dining room.

He took his seat to the right of his father and groaned. "Like I swam in a draught of living death," he mumbled and summoned the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

Lucius lifted an arrogant brow and neatly folded the morning paper before he set it aside. "You were up awfully late, Draco."

Draco offered his father a sneer as he set his coffee cup down. He was the only one who bothered with coffee. His father felt it was too muggle and rather common. Well bully for him because the caffeine kept Draco functioning most days.

"Not without reason," he finally answered. He looked at his mother across the table and sighed. "We have a problem."

Narcissa appeared unbothered as she sipped her morning tea. "What do you mean, dear?"

"I kissed Granger yesterday after she helped me upstairs."

His mother sat her tea down gingerly and clasped her hands together on the table. She looked as if she were having Sunday tea and the calmness irked Draco.

"Well, that certainly explains a bit more why I saw her running to the floo like her life depended on it."

Lucius frowned at this and eyed his son carefully. "I thought your mother asked the witch to introduce you to appropriate witches. Surely she must realize we weren't insinuating it should be her."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes for once and shook his head. "Allow me to be clear. _I_ …kissed… _her_. She's not made one move towards me and honestly I've been more than a little flirtatious with her recently."

"Surely, you have better taste, Drace," Lucius admonished.

Draco watched with veiled amusement as Narcissa turned to her husband with a frown of her own.

"You could hardly call it in bad taste, Lucius. She's a very powerful witch—intelligent, kind, and well mannered. And from what the society pages say," she glared at her son when he coughed and muttered 'gossip' under his breath, "her parents are both some sort of muggle healer, completely respectable for muggles. That's not to mention that she has a lovely appearance. I really don't know how Draco always thought she was so unattractive growing up."

Draco had to stop himself from snorting at that comment, remembering well her buckteeth. Fine, perhaps she'd not been a troll as he'd once thought but even she had gone through her awkward phase.

"You know what I mean," Lucius retorted.

Narcissa waved a dismissive hand and refocused her attention on her son. "I don't really see the problem here, dear."

Draco nearly shivered just remembering the chaste kiss he'd shared with Hermione. He'd known there was something abnormal about it, something far beyond the average and it confirmed the suspicions he'd had for the last year.

Their run-ins at the Ministry and social events had been leaving him feeling empty in the oddest way afterwards. He'd been drawn to her, seeking her out for a little good-natured teasing and intelligent conversation. Somewhere along the way when she was still with Weasley, he'd become suspicious of this.

"I felt something… _different_ when I kissed her and I think she felt it, too. She had to. I've suspected there was something different between us in the last year and last night confirmed it for me. I've done all the reading on the subject. There's no other explanation." He reached into his trouser pocket and tossed a folded piece of parchment across the table to his mother."

Lucius tried to hide his interest as he leaned closer to peek at what his wife now had in her hands. Draco often spoke directly to his mother, purposefully excluding him and the gesture chafed a bit if he were honest.

"And before you question me, I don't see how it could be anything but this. My pull towards her has been growing and even before I suspected something I feel like I was drawn to her."

"This is preposterous. Just rubbish."

Narcissa and Draco both looked at him with incredulous expressions.

"I'm not saying I don't recognize her as a legitimate witch. I think the war well and truly proved that. What I'm saying is she can't be the right witch for you, Draco. Surely you were mistaken. Soulmates are rare, son, and even then they never show up outside of pureblood circles."

"I think my magic would say otherwise," he snarled, a protective and irritated urge began to rile him every time his father put her down.

Lucius sighed, appearing bored with the entire topic. "Wouldn't you have felt something before? It's not the first time you've been around the woman."

"I've never kissed the witch before now. The texts all say it can be suppressed but only for so long with regular contact. And surely this is the most contact I've had with her in years. She wouldn't have felt anything because she was in a relationship until just six months ago and all accounts from soulmates claim that the conflicting emotions made it hard to realize until they'd have enough exposure to their actual soulmate."

Draco paused to drain his cup before pushing back his chair. He stared at his father hard, feeling the anger he often stifled bubbling under the surface the longer he stared at the man.

"Not only that, who in history would have had the opportunity to know they were matched with a muggle-born when they'd been trying so bloody hard to eradicate them? Perhaps there'd have been more such matches if we weren't so hell bent on secluding ourselves and living with miserable marriages!"

Narcissa drew a deep breath, ignoring the burn at the corners of her eyes as she considered the early years of her marriage. That hollow feeling that had carved out her chest still plagued her when she thought of Draco having the same sort of start in marriage.

"Not everyone gets a soulmate," she finally added as she met her husband's gaze. "Wouldn't it be horrible to deny something so unique and powerful?"

Draco watched his father closely after that. If that didn't intrigue him, nothing would. That had been at the center of Lucius Malfoy's argument against muggles and muggle-borns for years—uniqueness and power. Would he really dare deny his son of something so few could have?

Lucius sighed dramatically and reached for his cloth napkin to wipe his mouth as he pushed away from the table. "Half-blood grandchildren," he grumbled with a shake of his head.

Draco shared a relieved look with his mother and finally tucked into his breakfast.

"Well this certainly changes things," Narcissa smiled serenely. "You will be pursuing Miss Granger?"

He lifted his gaze from his plate and licked his lips. "I think I already began and didn't really realize it. She'll take some convincing—if I can get her to give me the time of day that is now that we both know what we are to each other."

"Judging by the way she ran from here yesterday I'd say she felt your connection as well, Draco. She's merely frightened."

He scowled as he studied the food on his plate. Yes, she was scared. Likely scared of feeling what she did for someone she'd not even liked growing up. Someone who'd represented all that was wrong with their world.

He could make it right though if she'd let him.


	5. Soulmates

**I went to edit this chapter and it just gave me trouble. I hope you all like the direction I took it in. Thank you as always for your kind reviews. I appreciate you stopping to take the time to share your thoughts with me. :)**

* * *

 **Soulmates**

Books littered her living room that evening. Spilled ink stained parchment and Hermione lay sprawled amongst the mess when Ginny emerged from her floo late that night.

"Merlin's pants," Ginny muttered as she glanced about the room before she spotted Hermione sitting in the middle of it all. "I came by to see what happened with Malfoy when we never saw you come back but you've clearly gone into one of your research sprees.

Hermione looked up at her then and bit her lower lip. Her cheeks were still blotchy from the tears she'd not been able to stop and she couldn't breathe well through her nose from the stuffiness.

"What do you know about soulmates, Gin?"

Ginny shrugged and brushed a bit of parchment off of the sofa and sat back. "Not much. I know they're really rare though. Why?"

Hermione nodded to herself, her eyes scanned across the sheets of her notes that she'd been frantically making. Every time she thought she'd found a dead end, new evidence pointed to the inevitable.

She met Ginny's expectant stare and sighed.

"He kissed me earlier." She held a hand up to stop her friend before she could jump in and continued. "Gin, I think there's a reason why I've been so drawn to him lately. I mean, truly this is the most time we've spent together possibly ever."

Ginny's brow furrowed with confusion and she sat forward. "But you've known each other since you were eleven. Wouldn't you have felt something before now?"

Hermione shook her head quickly, brushing loose curls away from her face. "Not necessarily, no. Everything I've read says that it can be suppressed. Dating Ron confused the connection present and made it hard for me to feel it. And before that when we were in school we avoided each other. There wasn't enough time or exposure to each other."

Ginny nodded though she wasn't quite sure she totally understood. "And when he kissed you?" She pointed a finger in the air authoritatively, "Which I'll want details about later."

Hermione chewed her lip as she thought about it and the wave of emotion washed over her again as she relived it. "Like my body had gone hot and cold all at once. As if my magic was physically trying to reach for his and his was desperately trying to touch mine." She shook her head at herself, not really sure that even made sense let alone explained what she'd felt from such a simple kiss. "I can't explain it right. But it's like my body and my soul want him even when my brain is screaming to slow down."

Ginny nodded, her face awash with interest mixed with a bit of happiness. "Hermione, it actually doesn't sound that bad."

"No," she shook her head, "it sounds quite wonderful. _He's_ been quite wonderful. It's just so much so soon."

And that was what scared her. She'd always been one to research and research and then make plans from her research. To have some innate connection that meant he was perfect for her—there wouldn't be anyone who could make her feel better—it was just so jarring and very unlike herself.

Frankly put, she was scared.

She made Ginny swear not to bring it up when she and some others came over Sunday to catch up and have lunch. However, it didn't do any good as Harry had already become suspicious and guilted Hermione into opening up to them. Neville, who was also present, found everything rather odd as well given that Malfoy had ordered flowers from him recently and insisted on arranging the delivery himself. Ron, well, he wasn't happy about it but that wasn't unusual.

"Soulmates," Harry asked for about the fifth time.

Hermione sighed from her position curled up in her favorite armchair and glanced at the group of her friends warily. "Yes, Harry."

Ron stayed uncharacteristically silent but he was rather red in the face.

"I think he must have sensed it even before he kissed you," Neville added.

"What do you mean," Ginny asked.

"Well, he came in to order those roses I told you about—the ones he apparently left on Hermione's desk. He looked around for a bit until he spotted them. I made small talk as I was arranging them for him, like I do with anyone, and asked why he chose the assortment that he did and he just looked kind of confused and lost. Said it just felt like the right choice."

"Can you sense the connection before it officially takes," Ginny asked Hermione.

She nodded though the information only caused more stirrings of nerves in the pit of her stomach. "From what I've read, it's almost like you know subconsciously after you've had interaction with that person before you really know in your mind."

"Like being driven by felix felicis," Harry added.

"Exactly," she nodded.

"Do you think he figured it out already," Ginny asked.

Hermione didn't get a chance to answer her. Everyone froze when they heard the forceful knocking from her front door. She closed her eyes as she pulled in a deep breath. Somehow she just knew. She could sense it—sense him and the realization did nothing for her already frayed nerves.

She knew before she opened the door that she wasn't ready and when she opened it and saw him standing there with the most obstinate expression on his face she really knew she wasn't ready.

"I know you know," Draco told her and stepped up a step to put them at eye level. "We can't avoid talking about it forever, Hermione."

Her breath caught in her throat when he said her name. She was fairly certain he'd never addressed her using her given name.

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, the knowledge of why she felt the way she did around him now all too pressing. "I have company," she informed him.

He tipped his head, frustration wearing at the corners of his eyes as he studied her. "I'm sure it's the usual crowd. I'm also sure you've told them by now." He held his hand out to her, palm up in offering. "Just a walk through the park down the street to talk this out. I swear on my wand I won't take too much of your time and I'll bring you back in one piece."

He smirked after the last bit and she released a relieved breath. His smirk was familiar. _He_ was familiar. However, this connection they shared…there was nothing familiar about it and she didn't know how to act around him now.

However, Draco wasn't budging. He half didn't expect her to accept him as he'd told her friends from the start. Truly, he wasn't so arrogant as to believe his misdeeds should be overlooked entirely. He wasn't the sort of man who actually deserved a woman like her but it was clear now that she was his only chance at happiness. And he'd never lied when he told her about his parents and how he wished for something different. He wanted to change the trajectory for his future and she held the key.

Hermione sighed after a tense moment and nodded. "Fine. Come in and I'll grab a jacket."

Perhaps she owed him a chance to hear him out. He had been brave and sought her out first which was not really consistent with his old self.

Her friends watched as she let him in and then stared at him intensely while he waited on her to return with her jacket. Being a Malfoy and rarely put off, he stared right back, lifting a pale eyebrow in challenge.

Ron stood from the sofa despite Ginny's attempts to stop him and crossed the room to stand in front of him in her entryway. They shared a tense look before Ron finally spoke first.

"I don't like you, Malfoy. Never have and likely never will."

Draco offered the redhead a sneer. "The feeling, I assure you, is very much mutual, Weasley."

Ron nodded, not put off. "That being said, if you hurt Hermione, I'll make your life hell."

The blonde wizard drew measured breaths through his nose as he considered how best to respond. Go with his usual venom and he'd lose her before she ever consented to giving their connection a chance. However, he couldn't let the threat slide completely, not given the source.

"Don't worry, Weasley. I'm not like you. I'd never do that."

"Problem," Hermione asked as she returned. She eyed both men expectantly.

"None," Draco asserted with one last sneer for the redhead before he refocused on her.

She lifted her eyebrows expectantly at Ron. He sighed and shook his head, returning to join their friends.

"Good. Well then," she spoke to the group. "I'll be back shortly."

She offered no explanation and for that Draco was glad. He wasn't ready to parade this around for everyone, especially if she rejected their connection as he felt she might.

She didn't jump when he rested a hand in the middle of her back and guided her out the door. He waited for her to descend the steps first and then took up stride beside her as they walked in the direction of the nearby park.

Hermione shoved her hands into her jacket. The urge to reach out to him was very present and she didn't like feeling so out of control of her body. Just walking side by side was stirring those odd feelings again, making her want to flee before she did something she'd regret but the urge to stay was stronger.

Silence settled between them as they walked down the quiet sidewalk, stirring silent anxiety in both their chests.

It was Hermione who spoke first, brave as always, and tried to dispel the quiet.

"Do you ever wear color," she asked, half serious as she looked up at him.

He always seemed to be in shades of grey or black, occasionally navy. Even now. It was Sunday and he was in black trousers with a black utility jacket and a grey shirt underneath. It made his pale features stand out even more.

"Do you want me to," he countered just as seriously.

Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. "I don't exactly have any say in what you wear, Draco."

His name tasted odd on her tongue. Not unpleasant but so strange and foreign. She felt the need to return the courtesy he'd given her earlier and use his given name.

Draco lifted an interested brow as he glanced down at her to find her eyes avoiding him. She'd said his name. Not Malfoy, not some other pseudonym, but his actual name.

"No, perhaps not but I'd consider your opinion if you did want to share it."

The park was deserted when they entered and he led her to a nearby bench where he took a seat. She sat gingerly next to him, staring straight ahead as a couple of squirrels scurried across the green for a tree.

She could feel his grey eyes on her but refused to look at him yet. Her courage was wavering and for once she wasn't prepared with what to say.

"We're good together," he finally said. When she slowly turned to meet his gaze he smirked. "You could deny it but we both know it would be a lie and it's rare when Hermione Granger lies."

"Only when safety dictates it," she quipped but there was no smile attached.

"Yes, well, I'm not going to hurt you."

She huffed out a nervous laugh and shook her head. "Now that I don't believe. You could hurt me quite badly if I let my guard down."

Draco's brow furrowed at that. "Why would I want to? Hermione, I won't treat you like he did. I won't take you for granted. I know I'm an arse in other regards but…not that."

She met his gaze again and shrugged. "I'm not suggesting you'd do it intentionally but you can't deny that we're still quite different. Your parents expect a traditional pureblood marriage for you, Draco. I don't fit into that at all. They'd never accept me."

He blinked but didn't hesitate to respond. "I understand why you feel that way but I think you'd be surprised. However, I'm not interested anymore in what they want. I'm interested in what _I_ want." When she merely stared at him warily, he sighed. "Do you have any idea just how rare soulmates are? And not even just for purebloods. In general, Hermione. This sort of connection doesn't crop up for just anyone. Not everyone has a soulmate. It doesn't mean people don't fall in love of course but this is so much deeper than that."

"What if I don't believe in soulmates?"

She knew it was a weak counter-argument because she wasn't stupid. What had developed between them had likely been there since they were children, since they were born really. However, their own emotions and urges had suppressed that natural connection until a time when they could interact with less hostility or distraction, allowing the connection to take root.

Draco gave her a look that made her certain that he was less than impressed with her denial.

"Hermione, I may not be quite as intelligent as you are—and don't look so surprised that I'm admitting it—but I'm definitely not an idiot. You can't deny the pull. The unexplainable comradery that developed between us. It's more than just physical attraction or passion—and stop looking so shocked by that as well," he admonished with a shake of his head. "You're bloody gorgeous."

Hermione had the good grace to flush slightly at his compliment and bit her lip to hide a growing grin. She'd never imagined one day that Draco Malfoy would be complimenting her looks when he used to take such pleasure in teasing them—specifically her teeth and hair.

"I want passion," he continued, "and I firmly believe after that short kiss that you could give me that. Who knew that bossy nature could translate into something attractive?"

"Oh, you prat," she smacked his arm closest to her.

He smirked at her as he reached out and gently tucked some loose curls behind her ear. "It's true though. But I do want more than that. I want to respect the woman I end up with and I want her to want me for more than my money and to be honest with me about her thoughts and feelings. Most importantly, I want you to understand that I don't want what my parents had. They love each other now but even then there's so much conflict between their wants and needs."

Merlin, just listening to him and hearing his sincerity was making her heart swell. This was a redeemed man who deserved the happiness he sought. And she was the key to that? It almost didn't feel real.

"I understand, Draco." She wanted those things, too, and she wanted them for him as well.

Draco watched her, imagining the cogs in that large brain of hers working faster to manage everything. She'd been more receptive to listening than he honestly thought she would have been.

After what felt like an eternity and him wishing he had a time turner to go back and maybe explain himself better, she finally spoke.

"It really would be quite terrible to allow history to continue repeating itself," she offered nervously.

She didn't know if it was the connection settling her nerves with him or just her own desire for all that he was telling her. Regardless, something inside her was beginning to settle.

He narrowed his eyes at her. He was beginning to be able to feel her emotions with more clarity and her wavering nerves were rolling over him in waves. He needed her words to be clear where her emotions weren't.

"What are you saying?"

Hermione licked her lips and offered him a hesitant smile. "I'm saying that…that maybe you're right. We have been good together and you—I can't believe I'm saying this—but you make me smile, Draco. You're brilliant, kind in your own stubborn way, clever and witty, and you…you've gone out of your way to take care of me. Don't think I didn't notice the way you insisted on walking me home, even putting yourself between me and the street. It was a little old fashioned and unnecessary really but—well it was terribly sweet." She stopped to shake her head at herself as she was beginning to feel rather silly. "I—I'd be foolish to keep denying how I feel about you or what we are to each other."

Draco just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly. He stared for so long that she began to wonder if maybe she'd been hallucinating about everything he'd said before and now he was just horrified at what she'd admitted.

When her face flushed red and she finally ducked her head to avoid his gaze, Draco shook from his stupor and moved.

Hermione jumped when she felt his hands frame her face, the tips of his fingers brushing the edges of her hair. He'd moved to kneel before her on the hard ground, not minding the moisture likely seeping into the knees of his expensive trousers from the rain earlier in the day.

"You're going to be the death of me one day," he breathed, his face now just inches from hers.

She stared into his grey eyes, feeling the waves of his own emotions beginning to wash over her more clearly now. Now that she'd accepted their connection. His breath filled the space between them and she picked up the smooth scent of spearmint mixed with his cologne.

"What a way to go though," he muttered to himself.

It was Draco who closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth firmly against hers. Unlike the last time, she softened under his touch almost immediately, like some lock had been opened finally.

His hands gravitated to her waist as he straightened on his knees and leaned into her. He groaned against her lips when he felt her hands rest on his shoulders, one moving to cup the back of his head as she shifted forward in his arms.

A part of him had always suspected she'd be as fiery to the touch as she was in personality. He was relieved and thankful to find out he'd not been wrong. Now on the same page with each other, she was obviously more comfortable snogging him. With the way her lips and tongue were trying to devour him, he knew he'd get the passion he craved out of his partner.

He was the first to lean in and he was the first to withdraw. He relished the feeling of her panted breaths rushing across his face and a smirk returned to his mouth once more.

"Fiery little lion, aren't you," he teased.

She huffed indignantly and smacked his shoulder as she leaned back. "I see this doesn't change you being a prat from time to time."

"Now how would that be any fun," he teased.

He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him. He stood finally, muttering a quick _scourgify_ to clean his knees before he reached out to pull her to her feet. She came willingly when he tugged on her hands to pull her against his chest. Something inside him relaxed further when he felt her tucked against him, his chin able to rest on the top of her head of curls.

Hermione sighed as a warm hand ran the length of her spine before settling back between her shoulder blades.

"Merlin, you're perfect," he muttered unconsciously.

She bit her lip against a smile. She knew for a fact that Draco Malfoy had never uttered those words about her before and she reveled in it now.

Draco kissed her forehead and allowed her to pull away after a moment before she took his hand in hers.

"Come on then. If we don't head back they'll likely send a search party."

He snorted to himself and allowed her to pull him along back down the sidewalk. "I suppose I don't get any say in your friend choices then. They're a package deal."

Dark eyes glared up at him and he couldn't fight his automatic smirk. This was going to be both pleasurable and fun.

"Git."

"Yours. An attractive one, too, might I add. You really lucked out here, Granger."

He continued to bestow more teasing comments on her as they walked. Some naughtier ones that even made her blush, reminding her that they'd need to decide on the pace of this relationship given the circumstances.

"What is your mother going to say," she asked once they reached her flat

"My mother will be just fine. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

She blushed once more at his compliment, not used to him being so open with his affection or admiration. "And your father?"

Draco lifted an arrogant brow and shrugged. "I don't bloody well care but we'll cross that bridge shortly."

He nodded towards her front door and the curtains in the front window that were suddenly swishing. "Go on. I'll come back later so we can talk more. Take care of that barmy lot you call friends and make sure they know I didn't do anything less than honorable to you."

She snorted as she ascended her steps and turned to him with one last smile. "I think your tongue would argue otherwise."

He had to laugh when she shut the door on him and shook his head. This was certainly going to be interesting. Who'd have ever guessed that Hermione Granger would not only be someone he'd admire but for whom he'd been destined. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve it but he certainly would do his best to be worthy of her.

"Well," Ginny asked as soon as Hermione shut the door.

They were all still there and waiting impatiently. Hermione took her time removing her jacket before she finally took up her seat in her favorite armchair. She nearly laughed aloud when she glanced between them all. Harry looked a bit apprehensive and Ron merely sat there with his mouth pursed, the tips of his ears red.

She turned to face Ginny and shrugged. "What's there to say really? He's changed so much from how he was in school and I can't just shut off the way I feel."

"So you're definitely going through with it," Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry. You're just going to have to get used to him."

He nodded and they were all silent for a moment. The addition of Draco Malfoy to their friend circle was going to change things a bit. Hermione felt certain they'd all find common ground eventually. After all, Draco seemed rather intent on making her happy and she couldn't say she didn't feel the same urge for him.

It was Ron who finally broke the silence.

"Well," he started, glancing about the group, "it is rather poetic that it's Hermione that Malfoy was destined for, isn't? Imagine the shades of red his bastard of a father is going to turn when he hears the news."

And Hermione, for once, couldn't fault him for that comment. She even laughed along with everyone else.

~o~O~o~

"Did she accept you," Narcissa asked as soon as he stepped out of the floo.

"Merlin only knows why but yes," he nodded as he removed his jacket.

Her normally impeccable posture relaxed the tiniest bit and she smiled at him. "Because she knows this will secure her happiness as well, Draco."

He shrugged and moved into the private sitting room, his mother hot on his heels. "I know she's not what you'd originally wanted for me," he told her as he poured himself a drink, "but I think you'll like her once you really get to know her."

Narcissa studied her son closely. He looked much happier than he had when he left earlier. Peaceful even. And she honestly didn't know the last time she'd seen her son so content.

"Draco," she spoke gently as she took a seat in the armchair across from him, "I want what will make you happy with your life. I thought I was clear when I originally asked Miss Granger—"

"Hermione," he corrected. Everyone needed to get used to addressing her in a familiar manner, especially himself.

"Yes, Hermione," she smiled. "I thought I was clear when I requested she find you a suitable, acceptable witch."

Draco snorted and sipped his brandy. "Yes, and she very sternly interpreted that not to mean her as an option."

She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug but her smile spoke of secrets he knew she'd never tell him. "I never meant for it to be interpreted that way, Draco."

He gave her a scrutinizing look which frustrated him all the more when she gave nothing away. "Do you know something I don't, Mother?"

"I can honestly say that I had no idea that Hermione Granger was your soulmate, let alone that you even had one, dear."

He nodded but he felt she was still hiding something. Whatever it was, it didn't appear nefarious in nature so he'd let it go for now.

"I'll be going back later this evening after her friends have left to discuss more with her about how we want to proceed."

"What's there to discuss? You're soulmates. Obviously, you'll marry one another."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and merely sighed instead. "Yes, that would be the desired end result but she'll likely need time to get to know me better now. We were never friends growing up and really only acquaintances in recent years. She's muggle-born, Mother, she'll not rush into this."

"Oh, fine then. Is six months enough?"

He smirked at her enthusiasm and quite frankly wasn't opposed to the idea himself. Whenever marriage had been mentioned before with the other witches she'd pushed on him, his skin had crawled and he'd felt sick at the mere idea. Now, knowing what awaited him, he could think of no particular downside to it. He would still honor Hermione's feelings on the matter, whatever they were.

"I'll let you know mother. One thing is for certain, I really don't want the Prophet catching wind of our connection. I'd prefer they believe we've been secretly dating or something for some time and just decided to go public. Even though our world has changed, I really don't want everyone knowing that we're soulmates. Her safety is of the utmost importance."

"Of course, Draco, and I agree. I still have a reliable connection at the Daily Prophet. I'll handle that should it become an issue."

She was standing in front of her stove cooking when he returned, this time by floo after she'd allowed him clearance. She felt his presence before she heard his footsteps as he entered the room quietly and came to stand at her back. Now that her initial nerves were mostly past her, it was rather exhilarating to have a new bit of magic to understand and experience. It was rather obvious now but from all her reading she gathered that it would become more natural with time.

"You smell incredible, you know," he told her.

Hermione could feel his nose near her temple and bit her lip as a smile worked its way on her mouth. She had never been one for such compliments or even such intimacy but now it felt right and comfortable. How interesting.

"Are you always this complimentary of the women you date?"

She knew when he moved to rest against the adjacent counter, could feel the loss of his presence and she turned away from her pot to look at him.

"No," he answered honestly. "But I'm not just intending to date you."

"Hmm," she nodded and pulled her wand from her pocket. She cast a simple spell on her pot so she didn't have to watch it and moved towards the counter where she had vegetables ready to be chopped. It would help to have a task to occupy her hands. "We need to discuss that," she noted as he continued to lean at her side.

"Okay, discuss then."

"I know that when I met your parents over dinner to discuss the exhibit, your mother was quite intent that you find someone to marry." She glanced up to catch his eyes only to find him watching her expectantly. "Well, I mean…were you intending to rush into if you found someone?"

He shrugged, looking entirely unconcerned and far too comfortable in her kitchen—in her space—already. "With anyone else, it likely would have been a few months of courtship and then tradition would dictate we rush down the aisle."

Hermione frowned at him then and wiped her hands on a nearby towel as she faced him finally. "But with me?"

"I'll fight to give you more time if you want it because I understand that's not how things work in the muggle world but I intend to marry you. What else would you have me do with my soulmate? I understand requiring time to get to know one another unlike we have before but what else do you expect?"

She chewed her lower lip as she considered his words. They did need more time to get to know one another before marrying and moving in together. What did they know about each other beyond their feelings? She didn't even know how he took his tea—or if he preferred coffee.

"I just had things I wanted to do before I settled down," she whined a little uncharacteristically. "I wanted to travel more for instance."

Draco stepped closer, trapping her with his arms on either side of her on the counter at her back. The position forced her to bend her neck in order to meet his eyes. "Hermione," he spoke softly, the taste of her name only getting better each time. "I have more money in my vaults than Potter has sense. I'll take you wherever you want to go whenever. Marriage won't stop us."

He smirked at the way she was now pouting, finding it both surprising and endearing as he'd never have imagined Hermione Granger to pout over anything.

"I'm not ready for children either."

He shrugged, unbothered. "We're young and have plenty of time. A ring on your finger doesn't mean we have to start having children."

"But our parents—"

Hermione shivered when he pressed a finger over her lips before he ducked down to claim that pout for himself. She sighed and mentally berated herself for her weakness but also for showing it.

Draco pulled away after a short kiss and pressed one more to her forehead for good measure before he pulled back to meet her eyes. "Our parents don't get a say in when we have children and I mean that."

She tipped her head curiously, like a small bird. "You know you're rather odd. Most men our age cringe at the thought of marriage so soon."

He gave her a wicked grin at that. "I'm not most men." And she was his soulmate. What was there to be afraid of with her?

She shook her head with another soft sigh and ducked under his arm to check her pot. "No, I suppose not."

"I don't know what you're making but it smells wonderful."

He was back to his spot leaning against the counter, watching intently as she maneuvered around her kitchen.

"It's a bisque and do you not cook?"

One lone brow lifted expectantly as she pinned him with her stare. Once more he realized he was going to enjoy this as this witch was going to keep him on his toes. How naïve he'd been as a child to dislike her bossy nature when he realized how attractive it could be in the right context.

He countered her look with one of his own and grinned when she huffed indignantly. "Really? You think I've ever learned to cook?"

"If you think for one minute that I'll be the only one cooking in this relationship, you're in for a rather brutal wakeup call, Malfoy."

It was an effort of monumental proportions not to laugh at her when she turned to face him with a spoon lifted in the air like a wand.

"And why pray tell would either of us need to cook?"

"Because you're also mental if you think I'll concede to live at the Manor after we're married."

Draco cringed at that, having forgotten to consider that little detail. No matter.

He waved a dismissive hand, "Fine then. I'll buy us a new house—"

" _We'll_ buy a house," she corrected, going back to her stirring now that he'd been put back in his place.

"Yes, yes, your need for modern relationship roles has been noted. You're the bloody queen and I'm your court jester." He sneered but it was more playful than in the past.

She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed her spoon again. "You won't treat me like some simpering little doll, Draco."

"No, I won't because you're exactly the opposite of that—exactly what I wanted really. But yes, _we'll_ purchase a new home together in a neighborhood of your choosing."

"Muggle," she asked, an impish grin lighting her face.

He rolled his eyes but nodded. "I don't hate muggles you know. Not anymore. I was misinformed growing up as you remember. But yes, I'll live around muggles if you require it of me but _I_ reserve the right to veto any of your housing choices. This," he waved a finger at his surroundings, "for instance just won't do."

"Elitist prat."

"I thought we already agreed about that."

"And you'll learn to cook."

Draco wanted to bang his head against the counter behind him. Cook? He'd never had the desire. Never had a reason to need to really, what with house elves always running about. However, he remembered her ventures with S.P.E.W. and figured that likely wouldn't go over very well. Perhaps if they were lucky, his mother would gift them one as a wedding present. You couldn't very well turn down a gift, could you?

His lip curled in distaste, "Fine, I'll learn to cook. Only because I'm not going to have my wife waiting on me hand and foot like some Weasley."

"Draco," she warned.

"You can't make me like the git."

"Well, trust me when I tell you the feeling is mutual."

Draco smirked and reached out with a hand to draw her to him. She allowed him, though she still put on a show of frowning about it but he felt her muscles relax when she rested her hands on his chest and tipped her head to look up at him.

"Well, then…it seems we've reached a mutual agreement about where this is headed."

"I didn't honestly think it would be that easy," she admitted sheepishly.

He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly. "I'm not as difficult as I've made you think I am."

She lifted a challenging brow, "Even without the connection?"

"Even without that," he agreed. "It's more fun to toy with people than give in so easily. Unless it's Potter or Weasley of course. I truly don't like the latter."

"You're incorrigible," she sighed, resting her cheek against his shoulder when he guided her head there.

She felt his smug satisfaction trickle through her body. He felt her contented relaxation wash over him.

How perfect for two people whose personalities were so strong that they find safety in one another.

"You don't have to be quite so smug though," she admonished with her cheek still pressed to his shoulder.

"You would be if you were me," he grinned to himself.

She nodded against him and they stood there for a few moments just enjoying the feel of holding and being held. However, the moment was disturbed when she lifted her head suddenly and placed a hand on his chest over where he'd been hit at the match.

"Draco! You shouldn't be up and moving around today! Merlin, how did I forget about that? You need to go home and rest. You should be in bed!"

True, he was still sore and a bit stiff but nothing would have kept him from coming to her and talking this out today.

A slight smirk lifted one corner of his mouth as she babbled on with her concern. "Merlin, you're going to be a handful," he finally spoke when she'd threatened to smack him if he didn't speak.


	6. A Malfoy History Upended

**For some reason it always takes me longer to write the concluding chapter of a story. Perhaps it's because everything is so final and I don't want to mess it up. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it and I hope to read your reviews. Thank you as always for reading my stories. :)**

* * *

 **A Malfoy History Upended**

"You'll behave yourself around her, Lucius."

Lucius Malfoy looked up from his task of securing his cufflinks and scowled at his wife. She was giving him that look—the one that said not to dare cross her. In all their years of marriage, and even before they'd managed to learn to love one another, he'd never dared to cross the woman when she had that look.

"She's going to be a Malfoy, dear. You might as well start treating her as such."

His lip twisted irritably but he didn't argue. "No, as you heard over dinner when they announced their plans, she'll keep her muggle name."

Narcissa rolled her eyes at him and turned to focus on securing her earrings in her mirror.

"She'll be Draco's wife, Lucius. While I understand it's certainly unorthodox for us, I won't alienate our son. And make no mistake, he _will_ choose her over us if pushed. I don't much care what surname she chooses. Her being his wife dictates that you be civil to the woman. She's going to bear our grandchildren one day for Merlin's sake."

He grunted in acknowledgment and moved to drape her wrap over her dress robes. "I still don't understand why if she's as logical and intelligent as Draco claims that she doesn't concede to an immediate wedding. I mean really, Narcissa. What's the point? If they're going to acknowledge each other as soulmates, why wait the six months she's requested? And Draco—our son is whipped by that witch already, conceding to her every wish and desire—living with muggles where they can't even be open with their magic…"

She tutted as she turned to face him and fixed him with her stare again. "Lucius, they weren't friends growing up. Draco bullied the poor girl, to which you should honestly be apologizing as that's partly your fault for the way we raised him."

"Have you apologized," he countered.

She gave him a smug smile. "Why yes, I have actually. She was most gracious in accepting my apology. She's very forgiving, which shouldn't be surprising considering what house she belonged to. But that's not the point. They need time to know one another as the people they are now. She needs time and for Draco to court her traditionally before they walk down the aisle." Her brow arched indignantly when he sneered openly. "This isn't going to be a bloody political marriage, Lucius! Our son is getting to marry for love and while maybe that means nothing to you, it means something to him!"

He blinked at her as her voice rose with the last bit and he had the good grace to grimace. "My apologies, dear," he spoke in a quiet tone as he bent to kiss the back of her hand gently. "I'll get used to this with time."

She sniffed and withdrew her hand gradually. "Yes, well, see that you do."

Narcissa left him to finish putting on his dress robes and took a moment to reflect on the last week. The Prophet had indeed gone mad that following Monday with an article speculating about the couple, a lovely picture snapped of her rushing to the quidditch field towards him. Narcissa had used her connections to supply the story Draco and Hermione had agreed upon—that they'd been secretly dating and only just decided they were ready to be open about it. It kept their connection as soulmates a protected secret at least.

Draco had brought her back to the Manor that same evening for dinner and she'd had her own conversation with the woman.

 _Narcissa noticed the reluctance her son exhibited when she asked for a moment alone with his soulmate. He lingered in the doorway of the sitting room, a frown marring his features before he finally heaved a sigh when she gave him a stern look and shooed him with her hands._

 _She sighed when he closed the door behind him and then turned her full attention to the young witch sitting opposite her. The woman sat with as much poise and confidence as any of the pureblood witches they'd tried to match Draco with in the past. Ever the Gryffindor, she seemed to be waiting patiently for Narcissa to speak first, not willing to show weakness under what had to feel like immense pressure. Though in truth, Narcissa couldn't honestly imagine the witch was nervous around her. Not with the way she'd stared down Lucius over dinner when he'd made a few snide remarks under his breath thinking he wouldn't be heard or noticed._

 _Coming back to the present, Narcissa offered her a kind smile. "I'm sorry for any unnecessary nerves me asking to speak with you privately may have caused but I wanted you to know that I'm quite pleased with the turn of events, Miss Granger."_

 _Hermione nodded and accepted the levitating teacup when Narcissa waved her wand. "I'm glad to hear that, Mrs. Malfoy. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried."_

 _"I can understand why. Draco's explained your feelings on the matter to me already. It's important to remember that while things don't work out the way we imagine, it doesn't mean they don't end up for the better." She smiled as she watched the young woman, still feeling very pleased with her son's good fortune in the matter. "I'll have to send Mr. Smith a lovely thank you for digging deeper into the history of our artifact collection or we likely wouldn't have discovered your and Draco's connection."_

 _Hermione sputtered at that, nearly choking on her tea. She carefully set the cup on the small table between them and made eye contact._

 _"Mrs. Malfoy, you'll have to forgive me but I don't understand what you mean. Are you saying that you tipped off my boss about the specifics of your magical artifact collection? You planned all of this?"_

 _Narcissa smirked proudly reminding Hermione so much of Draco. "Of course, I did. I was hoping that I could negotiate what I wanted from the situation and you presented the perfect opportunity. I want my son to be happy in his future marriage, Miss Granger, and only acceptable witches will do. You've made a name for yourself after Hogwarts and you have quite the reputation for your kindness and intellect. Draco admires intelligence and I've discovered the typical preening that many witches your age exhibit around him turns him off. I needed someone attractive but with the internal qualities to match. Someone who wouldn't be turned off by his past and understand that he'd been a child with little choice. Someone who would challenge him and appreciate his good qualities no matter how hard he tries to hide them. Of course, this was all before we knew just what you were to Draco. It seemed everything worked out much better than I could have imagined."_

 _Hermione swallowed and shook her head. "Mrs. Malfoy, but I'm muggle-born. I realize you've all moved past blood supremacy and I do really believe you've learned the error of such thinking however I still have a difficult time believing your husband is going to be accepting of me."_

 _Narcissa was unbothered and waved a dismissive hand. "Lucius is many things, Miss Granger. I'll admit that he does still prefer many traditions of our pureblood society and likely hoped that Draco would find a lovely pureblood witch so as not to have to learn new traditions or new ways of doing things. He doesn't enjoy being challenged and you no doubt will evoke many changes in Draco as one of his strengths is his undying commitment to those he loves. However, I am more concerned with the happiness of my son overall. I'll happily embrace whatever changes you should bring to our family if it means my son can have the family he wants."_

 _"But why me? Was all that rubbish about the women here not viewing him favorably because of his name just fiction?"_

 _"No," Narcissa shook her head, "That was quite true. I initially hoped to have a match for him with either the Greengrass' or the Parkinson's girls but I realized Draco would have been miserable with either option._

 _"However, I had an instinct about you. He used to rant about you growing up and how annoying he found your scholarly habits." She smiled when Hermione snorted at that. "He began to talk about you again whenever he had a run-in with you at various events after the war and he never had negative things to say. I'd ask who else he'd chatted with and he'd just shrug. I know Draco can be difficult to read but it was clear to me that you intrigued him whether he realized it or not. And it's obvious from the development of events here that there was more to it than any of us understood. Everything just worked out on its own quite beautifully."_

Narcissa smiled to herself as she descended the grand staircase, her hands trailing along the carved wood of the banister as she eyed her own wedding rings. She'd not be able to stop the firestorm that the witch's engagement ring would stir—when Draco finally gave it to her that is.

And Draco was at that very moment exiting Hermione's floo. He glanced around her small, tidy flat but found no sight of her.

"Hermione?"

"Draco, almost… _shit_ ," he heard her grumble.

He took a few hesitant steps towards the direction of her voice, knowing it was near her bedroom, a place he'd not been in the small flat yet. Cautiously, as he didn't want to startle her, he peeked around the open doorway. His lips flattened into a straight line when he caught sight of her and he tried desperately not to laugh.

"Laugh and I'll murder you with a single hex, Malfoy," she warned when she caught him.

In her efforts to zip her gown for the ball, she'd somehow snagged her new bracelet he'd given her on her zipper. (When she'd been reluctant to accept the extravagant gift, he'd only been reassured that she was perfect for him.) Her arm was bent awkwardly around her back and the back of her dress was still open revealing a small portion of her back to him.

"You could have just used your wand like a normal witch," he responded.

"Muggle. Born." She ground out through gritted teeth. "Pardon me if I don't whip out magic for every bleeding thing."

He swallowed his laugher, unable to hide his smirk though as he approached and freed her hand before he finished zipping her dress. "Well," he smirked at her through the mirror, "now I know how flexible you are."

"Oh you," she turned around and smacked his shoulder roughly. "Is that all you think of?"

He grinned as he rubbed at the spot where she'd hit him. "Considering that you're making me wait for the wedding, yes it has been rather prominent in my thoughts."

"Draco," she sighed, "do you even know how long I made Ron wait? And I've only ever been with him. The fact that I've agreed to marry you, agreed to all of this insanity which is so unlike how I usually do anything, should tell you something."

His lip curled on its own before he could stop himself. "Must you remind me that you've slept with that… _vermin_?"

She rolled her eyes at him and made to go around him to leave but he pulled her back with an arm around her waist. Draco cupped her cheek with the other hand and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her mouth.

"Forgive me for teasing you. I'd wait years if you asked me. I know what trust it takes for you to be with someone that way and I won't betray it." He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, "You look beautiful in that dress by the way."

She felt his sincerity in the way he held her and he felt her relief as she melted into him for a moment.

Draco pulled back after a moment but drew her left hand in his. He grinned wider as she narrowed her eyes at him in question.

He slowly sank onto one knee as he asked his question. "Will you wear your ring tonight if I give it to you?"

Hermione's face softened as she watched him. Some moments he was entirely frustrating and others she just wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let him go.

He'd not given her a ring when they'd agreed on the timeline of their courtship and subsequent marriage. Honestly, he'd not known what he was going to give her—a family heirloom or something custom. After some not so gentle nudging from Potter's fiancé, he'd gone the custom route and it had taken the better part of the week with his rush order.

"Merlin, Draco," she gasped when she saw it. Her free hand pressed over her heart, the organ beating harder and faster now.

A princess cut solitaire diamond sat incased in goblin forged platinum. Simple but classic, something that would never go out of style.

She allowed him to slide the ring on her finger before she ducked down to kiss him where he knelt. "Who knew you could be this sweet," she whispered against his lips.

He grinned as she pulled back to meet his eyes. "Just wait until you see how sweet I can be on our wedding night."

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically but smiled anyway. He was incorrigible but she found she loved it.

The realization that she was indeed in love with him in such a short period of time was disconcerting but she'd gotten over it. Especially when he'd reassured her that he understood.

She kissed him soundly and took his arm finally.

"You realize this is going to be a fiasco," she asked before they stepped foot into her floo. "Anyone of any social stature is going to be at this ball from Britain but around the world, too."

Draco lifted a challenging brow as he looked down at her. "Are you going to run and hide?"

Hermione stood taller if that were possible and drew her shoulders back. "Gryffindor, Draco." She smiled impishly at him then. "And with any luck our children will be, too."

He snorted just before she pulled him into the floo behind her.

Because the event was the official closing of the two weeks of celebration, of course the press was on hand. Draco stood tall, his hard eyes staring straight ahead as they walked in together. The flash of the cameras didn't even faze him but he could feel her anxiety spike before he ever felt her nails dig into his arm through his robes. He tightened his hold on her as they passed through the throng of onlookers and finally made their way to a table they'd share with Harry and Ginny, not far from where his parents were already seated.

Draco caught his mother's discreet smile and merely nodded in acknowledgement. His father appeared to be caught up in conversation with Hermione's boss of all people. Hermione glanced at him questioningly when she felt his tension. She followed his gaze and realized what it was.

"I don't much like your father still," she admitted, "but I highly doubt the man is daft enough to say something unsavory about me to my own boss."

"He's a prick," Draco muttered. He snorted when she glanced at him in surprise. "I'm under no delusions about his pride, Hermione. He'll never say a word against you to your face but he's still a bit resistant."

Hermione drew a calming breath and glanced at their table again. Narcissa caught her eye and lifted her glass in acknowledgement. She huffed out a breathy laugh as she turned back to Draco.

"Well, at least we don't need to concern ourselves with what your mother thinks. Do you know what she admitted to me when you had me over again?" She smiled when he shook his head. "She was the one who tipped my boss off about your collection in order to get me involved."

Draco's eyes widened comically before his lip curled irritably when she laughed. "Why would she have done that? I wasn't even really sure about what you were to me."

Hermione shrugged, "Mother's intuition, I guess. She said you'd talked about me a lot in the last few years after we'd run into each other."

Draco sat back in his chair with a grumble and crossed his arms stubbornly. "Well perhaps if you'd not been taken by that redheaded vermin then we'd have figured this out sooner."

"Stop your scowling, Malfoy," Ginny grinned as they approached. Her eyes widened suddenly and she pulled away from Harry to approach Hermione's side. "Merlin, he chose well."

Harry watched in mild confusion as the two women began chattering while Ginny inspected Hermione's new ring. He straightened his dress robes and approached the table, pulling out the seat next to the blonde.

"Well, I suppose I have one thing to say to you, Malfoy. Hurt her in any way and I'll hex you so badly you can't procreate."

Draco eyed the man's outstretched hand for a moment, a pale eyebrow lifted high, before he finally clasped his hand and squeezed a little harder than necessary.

"Agreed, Potter. But if I make her deliriously happy, I expect you to eat crow."

Harry snorted and shook his head. "Whatever you say, you git. Though I should warn you, Ron might take a bit more time to come around."

"Oh, Ron can shove off," Ginny barked. "Just look at the bloody rock he gave Hermione!"

Hermione covered her mouth with her free hand as Ginny still had her left and withheld the urge to laugh when Harry glared directly at Draco. She elbowed Ginny discreetly and the witch had the grace to blush before she finally took up her seat beside her own fiancé, ready to suck up for her momentary slip.

Truly, Hermione's ring wasn't _that_ much bigger than Ginny's. She did smack Draco for acting so smug about it at one point later in the night.

Ron arrived, fashionably late, with his girlfriend. He looked taken aback when Ginny pointed out Hermione's engagement ring but he ultimately pursed his lips and kissed her cheek in a friendly manner as he wished her well. The mature reaction took Hermione and Harry both by surprise but each were thankful to see their friend let go.

Draco's resulting growl did not go unnoticed but Hermione distracted him when she pointed out that the Minister was preparing to make his speech. Her hand on his thigh under the table, nails biting into him threateningly helped a bit as well.

Kingsley spoke of redemption, community, and unity and the discreet glances in Hermione and Draco's direction did not go unnoticed either. Draco had the distinct impression that there'd be some sappy story in the Prophet the next morning and a photo to accompany it.

Her love for dancing was not lost on him as he well remembered how she'd looked during the Yule ball their fourth year. However, now it was his arms wrapped around her and him twirling her around the ballroom for all to see. Her smiles were in abundance and all for him. It was infectious really and he found himself grinning along with her, despite the annoying reporters still buzzing about.

He'd gone from no witch of any worth giving him the time of day to discovering that the most brilliant, gorgeous witch that he could never hope to deserve was in fact his soulmate. The tides had indeed turned and he was thanking his lucky stars for it.

Hermione settled in his arms as the band struck up a slower song and enjoyed the warmth of his hands on her. He pulled her closer and she ignored the eyes on them, particularly those of his parents.

"You know…I used to think your face was too pointy," she commented lightly, a teasing smile on her lips.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, given _your_ appearance growing up."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "If you honestly think I'm going to let you continue to kiss me with that snarky mouth, you're—"

Draco leaned down and cut her off with a warm press of lips. He was vaguely aware of the snap of a camera but didn't care when he nipped her lower lip before pulled back again.

"I believe you'll still let me."

She glared at him playfully but allowed him to continue their gentle swaying. She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed.

Draco kissed her forehead soothingly before he glared over her head at Rita Skeeter who was furiously dictating to her quick quotes quill.

"I know she hasn't had the chance to speak with you, what with being caught up in the usual social bullshit, but my mother said you looked beautiful tonight."

"Hmm," she hummed against his shoulder and sighed. "I think she might actually like me."

He grinned as he stared down at the top of her head, "About as much as your mother seemed to like me."

"Prat," she grumbled and smacked his shoulder where her arms were wrapped around him.

"Guilty."

She lifted her head to study him for a moment. Familiar grey eyes peered back at her as her eyes roved over his face and pale blonde hair. Yes, it was rather poetic that he should be hers.

"Have you stopped to think of just how historic this is?" She removed a hand from his to gesture between them before taking up his hand again.

A slow smirk transformed his features but it was warm as he gazed down at her fondly. "Hundreds of years of Malfoy history upended by one fiery little muggle-born. I can't say I'm displeased by it."

Nor did it seem was anyone else. As Draco circled the room with her and people came to speak with Hermione, he stood quietly by her side admiring her professional decorum. Perhaps he wouldn't be marrying a pureblood socialite prepped in social skills, but he was getting a most self-sufficient, brilliant witch with comparable manners but paired with genuine kindness.

Surprisingly enough, many people shook his hand politely, some even blunt enough to comment that if Hermione Granger had given her stamp of approval on him then he must have changed. When a few even spotted her engagement ring, surprise didn't even cover it but they received what appeared to be many well wishes and congratulations anyway.

When he escorted her home for the evening, leaving an hour before the end of the event because her feet were hurting, he found himself once more marveling at his good fortune. While it was certainly a nice change of events for both himself and his parents to be social and not be constantly watched with wary eyes, he really didn't care. By the end of the evening, whispers of their engagement were circulating and he had no doubt that it would make the Daily Prophet in the morning, possibly even the front page.

She kissed him softly as he stood by her fireplace, ready to return home for the evening.

"Remember, you're meeting my parents tomorrow."

Draco groaned, his mouth pulling into a reluctant frown but he nodded. "You do realize it's not nice to use our bond to manipulate me into doing things I don't want to do, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his put on dramatics. "Oh please, you're doing it of your own free will and you know it. Just admit it—you like making me happy."

His lip curled in an effort to show his disagreement but she saw through the expression and laughed as she leaned up to kiss him again.

Draco gazed down at her seriously then and brought his hands up to cup her cheeks. Her warm brown eyes peered back at him, a certain twinkle of happiness deep within that he still had trouble understanding that he was responsible for.

"You, Hermione Granger, are my savior," he told her seriously. Her eyes continued to watch him, studying his features as he brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones. "Without you I'd be enduring a lifetime of unhappiness just as history has always dictated. How will I ever thank you?"

Hermione took a breath and felt the air shudder through her lungs as she watched him. All teasing forgotten for the moment, it was clear how serious this was to him.

She remembered well over the last couple of weeks—had it really only been that long—how he looked so resigned to the idea of marrying and living as his parents and their parents before them always had. The haunted look he'd tried to hide was gone and in its place was genuine gratitude.

"Just love me, Draco. It's all I'll ever ask of you."

He kissed her then. Kissed her in a way that made her heart stop and her mind flutter away. Kissed her the way he would for the rest of their lives.


End file.
